Exit Wounds
by thelovethieves
Summary: Non-Canon story where Scabior and Hermione have interactions far preceding the snatching in the woods during the war. What happens when a man driven by selfish needs ends up crossing paths with a selfless woman whose just barely keeping from drowning? Just who will be saving who and how can they survive a war that's left them on opposite sides? M for violence and smut DarkFic!
1. If You Were Mine We Would Know

_Just a tiny forward for the obligatory I do not own the copyrights to Harry Potter as it belongs to the ever lovely Jk Rowling, I am simply presenting a non profit fanfic of a pairing I love to play around with._

 _On that note, this is obviously a non-cannon pairing and a bit OC of course for both parties. I will rate it M for future chapters that will likely involve mature topics such as torture and sexual situations but in this chapter none of that happens yet! Thank you so much for stopping by and reading this fic I hope you all like it as much as I enjoy writing it. Look forward to more chapters being posted this weekend I have two more already written. Blessed be~_

 ** _Chapter One: If You Were Mine We Would Know_**

His hair was hopelessly tangled and unkempt but yet wisps still managed to blow against his face in the open night air. Beneath the glow of hyacinth light his smile was broad but turned into a snarl just at the very ends as he pushed angrily at the hair tickling his nose and lashing his eyes. The task at hand would not wait and he knew that he could not afford to lose any time to dallying. Worn out leather boots with mangled shoe laces glided across the stone streets beneath him as he pushed quickly in between any passerby's. He'd grown quite accustomed to people paying no real mind to him assuming him to be just another vagabond roaming aimlessly through the town. Though the sentiment wasn't entirely wrong, he had no real home as his work kept him often on the move, he did have a distinct purpose in his tracking this night. Tracking was exactly the right word for it as well, he was on the hunt and his prey was not far off. Over many years he had honed an innate ability to hunt down just about anyone and his most talented gift was tracking by smell and her trail called to him like a siren on the rocky shores. Though she was very clever and often kept from being caught easily she made for an excellent chase indeed as he round corner after corner until he was hit with the distinct smell of honey and lilac blossoms. The sticky sweet but calming aroma that often permeated the air near her was giving him proof of her imminent appearance before him. Before he knew it he was catching the sight of her form skittering past him and into a dark alley away just ahead and he bounded forward just ever so slightly faster as not to lose her.

He had no real intent on actually catching her just yet; no this was an entirely different matter than usual. It had all started rather innocently if truth be told in the situation. One evening he'd been lingering around one of the old taverns in Hogsmeade with no real purpose that day when he'd spotted her come in the doorway. From his spot in a very back booth he couldn't make out any real features on her but she had a long tousled mess of brown curls that he found himself eyeing over his glass of liquor all evening. Wrapped around her was a long black velvet cape that made his fingers ache with longing to touch the crushed fabric beneath their tips and get a closer look at this woman who did not fit in here. The stool she sat perched upon was nearly half her height making her appear much too young to be in a place like this. A glint passed in his eyes as he heard the soft laughter like a woodland fairy echo against the rowdy shouts of the other patrons. It was enchanting and only kept his mind focused more on her though he chided himself to stop being so nosy about a random bar chit.

Hours passed and as he watched her mull over a glass of fire whiskey he began to find himself imagining just what she might be like. It was thrilling in a way to develop an entire back story on who she might be and what she may be like. Not much room for mystery was allotted in his job as he knew most peoples dirty secrets just from hunting them down, but this girl was different. She was an entirely vacant book with no ink on the pages just yet and he knew that he wanted to slowly path out the story himself. In his mind he imagined that she was quiet and mystical with a penchant for spoken words much more educated than he'd ever be able to comprehend. Every time a new patron would pass in the bar door her head would turn nervously as she wiggled slightly in her seat and under the pale chandelier lighting he could make out just enough of her features. Her nose had a soft curve and a slight button end and lips with a just as petite cupids bow. A smattering of light freckles rested across her cheeks and he could not refrain from mentally comparing her to a porcelain doll you'd see in a window shop. Much too young for a place like this at hours like this and more importantly much too young to be caught in his gaze he reasoned to himself. Anxious energy bounded off her in waves but as she made her way onto a second and third glass she began to settle more into herself and came to rest much more stoically in her high stool. No longer would she glance panicked at the doorway and register every strange man who entered the bar. He wearily had to admit to himself that he missed the glimpses of her countenance but knew that he would be seeing them again some time or another. Through his own inattention his own glass had gone warm long ago but he still held the cup between his fingers rolling it back and forth as if trying to keep himself still. Sweat caused it to slide around but his sturdy fingers never let it go and never let his eyes leave her.

Recalling the memory had been a major infraction and he lost focus of her trail once more and blinked to find her all but gone from his vision. Cursing heavily beneath his breath he tried to suppress his growing annoyance at this whole task. Slowing his gait and trying to zone in on his surroundings he found his nasal cavity wafting in a huge amount of pure stench of the streets over flowing gutters and unemptied trash bins. It was for lack of better wording a very seedy part of town that he had followed her into and he wondered very immensely why this little fox had ended up so far from home in a lecherous place such as this. As he crossed through another alley he caught the unmistakable scent once more and his footsteps again began to bound forward with intent knowing he was close to the source of the trail. Rounding another corner he skidded to a silent halt as he caught the sight of her poufy tangled brown curls passing through a shops threshold. Store was almost a too polite term for it though as the building looked far beyond worse for wear and as he crept upon a window decided the inside was not much better of a sight. The lights inside where not much brighter than the darkened evening streets and so he could not make out much except for the tiny figure and the larger older man beside her. Upon further inspection the man seemed very thin and rakish with age hanging well on his features, though definitely not a threat as she lingered close to him. A foreign sense of territorial jealousy seized upon the hunter and left him at unease not knowing how to handle such a feeling. He had no real stake or claim to this young woman who didn't even know of his existence frankly. Merely she was a strange obsession that he followed upon whenever they'd cross paths. Even now at this moment he had no real tangible idea as to why he couldn't stop hanging around her in the shadows.

It wasn't so much an issue of the creepiness of it all that perturbed him so as it came with the territory of how he made his living, no it was more so the crawling sensation as of late he had to introduce himself into her life. He'd awake certain nights thinking about those plush untamed curls he had spent so long staring at and have to banish the thoughts immediately but unsuccessfully. Reminding himself yet again to focus he noticed the peculiar old man handing his little fox a tin box of something which she rather quickly shoved into her jean pockets beneath her cloak. She always worse such muggle clothing under her formal wear and it vexed him so. A few evenings prior he had glimpsed her in a bookstore wearing a moss green jumper and jeans with many well worn holes in the legs. On anyone else it would have been a rather dowdy outfit but on her it fit so well on her soft curves that it left him with that unsettling sense once more. It was obvious she didn't come from much money unlike most of the students he would see out and about in the town and perhaps he felt a kinship to her in that respect; his family or lack there of never had much money at all. A beggar was the exact terms for him as a child.

As she left the sketchy shop in a shuffle hurriedly digging around her satchel she didn't notice him dodge behind the alleyway corner and hide until she'd passed ahead a safe enough distance. Starting his normal pace behind her he heard a clicking sound and then smelled the loveliest notes of tobacco and cloves floating in smoke from in front of her. Another mystery to add to the list as he had never before seen her smoking, but yet again there was always something new he found himself mentally jotting down. Often he noted though she was around others and during those moments she would barely have even a hair out of place. It was only during these moments of solitude where he would catch her gliding or sulking around with unbrushed messy hair and engaging in these bad habits you would never expect from such a gentle looking bird. During these moments it was almost like glimpsing an entirely different person. This one was the porcelain doll he had first seen in the bar that night. It was as though someone had once precariously dropped her and then tentatively glued her glass pieces back together as if nothing had ever gone wrong. That is unless you really looked close under a specific lighting and then you would notice the hairline fractures and the minuet spots of dried glue sticking to her smooth exterior. He found himself pondering if anyone else in her life had noticed the magnificent façade that she kept up daily. Truly it was a marvelous act he would applaud had him the chance and right timing. The strange feelings settled in his chest one more and he tried very physically to shake them off but to no avail. As he breathed in the beautiful scents coming from her he imagined an entire life for her once more; one that he had to stop from including himself in more often than not. Never had he found himself so enticed by another and it bothered him to his very core if he was being honest. Sure while out snatching for the ministry he would see a few pretty faces but none of them ever evolved into this sort of….obsession.

Lately the ministry had him spying on random threats as the background noise stammered on and on about a return of the dark lord. He couldn't be bothered much by either side as long as he got paid in the end but his one constant anymore was this beguiling woman and her unknown secrets. As she stole fervent looks around herself suspiciously he just barely slipped out of her view and felt a thrill run up his spine of almost being caught himself. Realizing he had to be a bit more careful he gave her more room behind herself but found himself aching for the sweet smoke to be envelope him a little closer. Before long they had almost come upon Hogwarts grounds and he knew that he wouldn't be seeing her for much longer. Walking tentatively to a tree by the Black Lake her legs seemed unsteady and in one fell swoop she fell bottom first to the ground with only a tiny huff. He wanted to chuckle to himself but held it in to refrain from any noise calling attention to his concealed form. Long gone was the glow in her cigarette but she still twirled the end in-between her fingertips and eyed the murky lake as if it held some important information she was seeking.

"Stupid Hermione, pure idiotic that was. How could you ever let yourself come to this?"

Her voice almost startled him proper as he'd never really clearly heard her talk. Out here there were no distractions and no need for hushed tones. Suddenly things started to seem almost too real, almost too private and it for once in his life gave him a sense that he shouldn't be spying on someone. Every indulgent and weary vowel echoed in his ear and the tingle crawled up his spine again but this time from the sheer joy of hearing her dainty voice. Looking up at the bright full moon that shone down upon her he felt that a woodland fairy was still such a fitting description of her beauty. He knew she wasn't exceptionally attractive in a conventional sense, but it was more so the sense of her physical form and the way she hung around these midnight stops like a wandering ghost so delicate to the touch. She was far above who he was in his life and far above anywhere he'd ever achieve. In the dousing white glow she had an aura so peculiar and lovely even a king would fall to his knees at her feet.

Suddenly he felt very self aware of his own form looking down at his torn plaid pants and stained ripped leather jacket two sizes too big for a perfectly snug fit. Someone such as her would never give this level of notice to him as he did to her. She was a pearl still hiding in the depths of the ocean just waiting to be plucked and he was but a rat scurrying around under the city streets. Anger driven bile rose in his throat as he very much so felt a small level of resentment for this strange woman though to no fault of her own. His throat clutched together to keep back the shaking of his fists at his side but within an instant the antagonism had flowed all but entirely from his body and he ignored his self pitying thoughts as he heard her cry out from her spot under the tree. Gut wrenching strangled cries bellowed from her shaking form and it took all his might to keep from darting straight over to her and making sure she was alright. Many times had he heard men and woman cry but never had it affected him like this. He almost hated the immense human response it brought up in him. Confused about all the emotions overtaking him he made a motion to turn and walk away right then and there but something diminutive in his chest tugged at him to stay and still make sure she made it back into the castle alright. Since when did he ever care if anyone else was okay? It all felt too strange to care so much and it made his stomach turn over on itself in a new found fear. Even if he could fathom how to handle such delicate feelings he'd never been good with others and often resented them all on this faulty principle alone. Keeping a distance was much easier for him; remaining devoid of pity and sympathy and indulging in a self centered way of living was how he liked it. Never had he thought about changing this, he was far too keen on keeping his life this way and no silly curly haired fairy was going to change it.

"The worst has yet to even come….my god how do you expect to handle yourself in a war if you can't even take this?"

The sorrow was dense and seething off every self loathing word as it left her chapped lips. She was muttering much more hopelessly to herself though and staring ever more concerning at that damned dark surface before her. Something in the look crawled under his skin and spoke volumes of something much deeper and all consuming. He feared if he'd been any closer that it would have swallowed him alive as well. Shedding only a few more hiccuped tears she stood back up on wobbly legs and adjusted her clothing back brushing off dirt and crushed grass blades before heading towards the castle. Upon seeing her finally slip back behind a heavy oak door in the distance he knew his presence was no longer urging him to stay and he disapperated with a crack back to the same bar where he'd first seen her. Settling into his same usual back corner he let go of a fatigued sigh he didn't even know he was still holding back.

"Why do I fear this little fox is going to be the death of me?"

The whisper was half a question and half a silent resignation to whatever fate he had doomed himself to nearly a year and a half ago in this very spot. Calling up a round he sunk down into his seat nestling the fire whiskey against his chest cradling it almost like a precious gift. Things were only starting to unravel and he knew he would not be prepared for this no matter how hard he tried.


	2. You're Nowhere To Be Found

_Eep! Thank you so much to all you guys for giving this story a follow and an extra thanks to Draconian666 for the lovely review! Chapter Three should be posted by tomorrow evening or night. Hope you guys enjoy, this one will give us the peek into what was going on through Hermione's mind during the mysterious trip to the little shop :) It's a little shorter than the first chapter but that's because chapter three will be much longer._

 ** _Chapter Two: You're Nowhere To Be Found_**

Had anyone else been looking in to make an observation they would have assumed the golden trio were on top of the world. Ron had finally made the Quidditch team and gotten his most successful scores of the entire season. Despite the imminent war glowering above their heads they all tried valiantly to enjoy what was probable to be the last precious moments of their youth. The entire Gryffindor hall was bursting with laughter and cheering over Ron and the team for their impressive win over Slytherin. For once in the past few weeks almost everyone was glimmering with genuine happiness and it was palpable. Almost all except one who was ever so slowly sulking backwards towards the door. For days she had been wracked with nervous energy praying this exact win would happen and the ensuing party that would giving her the chance to sneak away. Once crossing the threshold her mask slipped to a trained concentrated eye as she slinked through corridors and stairways narrowly avoided every monitor in the halls until she found just the back exit way she was looking for.

Adrenaline jumped through her body trembling all her fingers and toes but she kept breathing through all the pounding in her chest. Throwing open the door her face was slammed with rosy red pin pricks as the cold startled her anxiously warm body. Tugging her cashmere pink scarf closer to her neck she kept forward vowing nothing would stop her in her journey. It seemed like centuries before she reached the inner most of the old town but as she rounded the familiar darkened street the moment couldn't come soon enough. Glancing at the dim lanterns lining the way she quipped to herself in ease that it would make it harder for anyone who saw her to recognize her. Though it was not unusual at all for the older Hogwarts students to sneak out and hang around the bars and shops during weekends her cautious rule driven inner monologue made the trip seem much more dangerous. Not mention that tonight was not a simple trip to the bar, but one that would possibly get her in real trouble was her secret found out. As her feet carried her on auto pilot to the destination she couldn't shake the ill feeling that someone was watching her but shook it off as yet again a symptom of her over reacting. Through back alleys and dodgy streets she continued on and on straight to the same shambled building that she'd grown so used to the past couple months. Just looking upon the exterior gave her a pause of regret but it wasn't until she made her trappings with the man in the back did she feel the sense of shame.

Thrusting herself through the doorway she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end knowing it was already too late to turn back now. The feelings turning in her stomach did not leave even when she was already exchanging money with the old man. Jenkins was a kind man though and often made sure to ask if she was doing alright. She knew he had no real family left and would often bring him an extra baked good that she'd take from the kitchens elves back at Hogwarts. Even when engaging in dangerous activities she couldn't keep the worry for others out of her heart.

"You seem rather jostled today dear have they been treating you well at the castle?"

His voice was light and joking but she could see the seriousness in his eyes as he looked down upon her. Shifting uncomfortably she didn't want to expose her feelings of worry to this man and bother him with them. She had grown rather well though at playing innocent and kept the mask on as usual.

"Yes quiet well Jenkins, just feeling a bit under the weather since I ran out. You can help me with that though I suppose, I'd like to order double my usual if you could please."

With a gentle tone she steered the topic back to the matters at hand in the most polite way as possible. He knew it was an aversion but he never pushed the girl knowing all too well how she probably felt to resort to this. Shuffling under the counter he produced the items for her in a pint-sized black tin as always. Her goodbye was rushed but she always felt an urgent need to leave the shop as quick as possible to avoid feeling any dirtier being there. Emotions crept up her throat causing a physical reaction but she squashed it as soon as possible choking back any tears trying to escape. The sensation crawling up her neck returned yet again as she got to the end of the street and fumbled with her satchel to dig out her cigarette case and lighter. Most wizards would scoff at her not using simple magic to light them but she found a home like comfort in using the muggle contraption. She wasn't ashamed of her non-wizarding family and she found it much easier most times to use the muggle items she knew so well from back home. Such humble things caused her pains of sorrow remembering how far she was from the parents she loved so well. The disconnect as of late was so jarring to her world; she never really noticed the exact moment she shifted into being such a different person on the inside. Everything was real and surrounding her but for all intents it could be a thousand miles away. People standing beside her with their hands on her shoulders felt like they were on the other side of a veil and the squirm under her skin made only a reminder that they didn't feel the same.

She knew rather well that she had plenty of friends or people that she could turn too but it all seemed so trivial and selfish to bother them with her problems when they had copious amounts of their own to deal with. Perhaps she was just over reacting like always or at least that's how she rationed it to herself in the still of the night. Worse yet she would fear that they just wouldn't hear the words when she spoke them through an addled tongue or not understand them as though she was speaking an entirely different language. The entire mental affair was terribly self indulgent and she felt wrecked just knowing she was brooding over such silly problems when the far worst for the entire world was yet to even come. Dread shook her body like a dying tree in the sharp autumn wind when she would think to the dark lord and his repulsive followers. Lost in her thoughts she nearly stumbled on a root coming just ever so slightly out of the ground near the Black Lake.

Only then did she realize her cigarette was already burned down to the filter but couldn't part with it just yet. The castle looked so beautiful but almost menacing under the glow of the full moon and she hesitated to continue on realizing she surely still had plenty of time before her presence would be missed. Her thoughts quickly turned poisonous as she though of how Lavender Brown had probably already snuggled up tight against Ron and dragged him to a corner for a proper snogging. The girl was obnoxious and too dim witted for Hermione not to be irked by her even if she wasn't gunning for Ron so hard. Though she'd harbored romantic feelings for Ron a couple years now she argued distinctly with herself over it extensively. She knew they weren't logistically a good match but they had grown so close over the years through the bond of friendship and often she wondered if the feelings she felt was a familial love or something more. It was a mess to be perfectly honest and she knew it. Finally collapsing on her bottom to ground she found herself so enthralled in her personal thoughts that she began mumbling them out loud.

"Stupid Hermione, pure idiotic. How could you ever let yourself come to this?"

It was self degradation but she knew what the boys at Hogwarts would say behind her back she wasn't totally ignorant to the social realm. The ice princess of Gryffindor they would call her. Frigid and unresponsive to romantic moves and many other terms she couldn't bare herself to say out loud. Couldn't they see that there were so many other important qualities to seek out in a person? It wasn't all so surface determined and hormone driven. For hours she would tell herself that it was merely her thinking at a much more level headed rationale but even that was tiring and knew she just wasn't the same as everyone else. The only one who ever spoke about her in such compassionate terms was Viktor Krum but he was long gone back to his own life. If you'd ask she wouldn't admit to missing him but she was still quietly very happy that for even a lesser time frame their paths had crossed and given her a modest normalcy.

"The worst has yet to even come…my god how do you expect to handle yourself in a war if you can't even handle this?"

Thoughts murkier than the water before her started to surface and she found herself subconsciously prodding at her satchel feeling around desperately for the little black tin she had just gotten. Feelings its shape through the lining her fingers stopped and let go perfectly content in its security. Her mind was the exact problem though it just never shut off and never slowed down. Always running and running in unstoppable circles. Prattling off technical terms and their definitions and overanalyzing everything in front of her until it no longer held any real meaning. It was a compulsive issue that would gradually take over her entire life until she was clutching at straws. But the longing, oh the longing, that was the worst. She could deal with the loneliness and fake the façade that she wore on the day to day basis but the longing for a quiet mind and someone to share it with always crippled her and left her on those wobbly legs. Fatigue snuck up on her body as she ran herself up mentally underneath that barren tree and she knew she would have to make the rest of her journey back to the empty cold bed that awaited her.

Standing was harder of a task than she would have imagined but no longer were any tears trying to come and her mind had slowed from its own tiresome accord. It was a feeling most would chagrin over but it was the one home she had carved out for herself. A sort of safety in the beckoning call of sleep where she could escape it all for just a few hours and just let go. Just like a good book it was a comfort she knew would always be there to pull her into its pages and spin an unknown tale. As her fingers tugged at the heavy brass door handle she finally felt the goosebumps the back of her neck subside and give her some peace she had momentarily lost.


	3. Want You So Bad I Can Taste It

_And back with Chapter Three! It's much longer than the last one to make up for how short that one was. Chapter Four should be posted tomorrow night at the latest the morning after. Thank you yet again for reading this you guys I'm so glad there's so many other Scabior/Hermione shippers still out there. There's a pattern to the chapter titles and the fic title but I'll leave that for you guys to work out if you want :)_

 ** _Chapter Three: Want You So Bad I Can Taste It_**

Tensions were rising as summers end began to curl around them. Things between the trio only heightened as they realized the last of their childhood had finally passed them by the moment Dumbledoor had fallen from that tower. His limp body mangled into the stone below and his vacant eyes showing the last departing strand of whimsy that may have lingered with them. Time had come for them to pull up their metaphorical bootstraps and embrace the war that was heading towards them faster than a land devastating hurricane. Hermione was back home limbs sprawled out on her bed but the house was empty and the silence was deafening to her spinning mind. This was the big weekend of course for the dental community and her parents had left for a town a few hours north to attend unworried that their daughter was capable and responsible enough to manage on her own. She hadn't let onto them at all the dangerous storm heading their way wanting to let them stay in their much safer world. Just how long could that last though? How long could their blissful ignorance keep them safe from the wizarding world spilling out into their own? The thoughts had plagued her all summer and she knew regretfully what she would have to do before she left for the burrow next week.

It all seemed unreal how could something so overbearing and terrifying be falling on the shoulders of her and so many other young adults? How could something so destructive wipe out the lives of so many others needlessly only because of burgeoning biased hatred? Nothing about it made any rational sense but since when did any war make sense? No matter how people may try she knew they were still faulty creatures who would never overcome their prejudices. Even thinking of the people close to her she might lose to this absurd fight would bow her body over in seizing panic and crocodile tears she couldn't begin to hold back.

Knowing this train of over thinking would get her nowhere she bounced off the bed onto her feet with a new found idea for the evening. She would be getting no sleep tonight anyways with the way things were headed and so she began rummaging through her closet for a suitable outfit. Most of the summer she had spent constantly at her parent's side when they weren't working just having solitaire days of typical house fun and so it wouldn't be a fuss at all in her mind to take a night out to have some real excitement. The bittersweet thought that it could be her last filled her mouth with thick saliva that was almost as hard to swallow as her new reality. Settling on a pair of barley worn bell bottom jeans and a flowing red silk blouse she made her way downstairs to grab her house keys and satchel. At least now with the keys she would have something to idly toy with between her fingers to keep her nervous itching's at bay.

Leaving for a long night in the city made her feel a bit naughty as she never really did anything like this at home. Sure at Hogwarts she had snuck out to the bars and even engaged in late night dormitory parties but her real home was a much different sort of affair. She respected her parents and their trust in her so she kept on her best behavior for them. It was no surprise as such then that they hadn't noticed the change in her that had been taking over. In their eyes she was still their thoughtful diligent daughter who had never had an arbitrary thought in her life. Looking at her choices for the future with them she realized soon it wouldn't matter at all because they wouldn't even remember her existence at all. What would one night that would never be remembered matter then? It was just one more peculiar piece of identity to add to her growing new life.

Walking through the darkening city streets of London perspiration was already gathering down her back and as the hairs on the neck stood up through the slick oil the strange feeling came back to her once more. She almost wished it really was someone watching her and seeing all her dirty little secrets but she knew it was only her muddled panic addled mind playing tricks on her. The thrill of someone seeing right through her like no one before was strangely exciting but she knew ultimately just a fantasy. There was no alluring moon hanging above her tonight, no extra light to shine her way, just the low shine of old auburn street lights. Oddly though the night had become her most comforting friend in a weird way. It never asked anything from her and always wrapped its self around her like a worn in blanket. It concealed who she was in its contorting shadows and kept her secrets self from any true on looking eyes. Safe from all except one whom she wasn't even aware of.

 _Viewpoint shift_

Finding her took him a good while longer than he anticipated but as always he had that one lucky stroke that he needed. Hanging around the city limits all he needed was to spot her on a shopping trip and that's exactly how he found her. A local bookstore had become his favorite spot to pursue and he knew that she was the type to come to this store eventually as he'd seen her time and time again in the bookstores of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. One particular evening he had stationed himself in a plush oversized chair in the back of the store when the sweet smell of lilac and sandalwood crossed his path. He knew then that she was near and oh by merlin's luck he caught the glimpse of her unmistakable curly hair float past a bookshelf just ahead of him. A leap in his chest and a foretelling drop in his stomach and he knew that there was no turning back this would be his only chance. The month he'd spent waiting seemed like years and years and he missed her sweet haunting presence like a drug that had long left his veins. Upon following her to the small outer limits town she called home he found a nearby motel and made himself a nice place to stay for a while and found himself quiet enjoying the none hectic environment compared to the Wizarding world he was rather used to.

He was short on money and often pickpocketing just to pay for his meals but it was nothing he wasn't used to. The financial risk was well worth it in his skewed new look upon things. It didn't take long for him to notice though that the brewing dark clouds that loomed over the wizarding side of London had not escaped the muggle side at all though. The twisted looming vibrations hung thick in these clouds as well though anyone not attuned to the magical atmospheres wouldn't notice at all. Even being someone experienced with survival and hardship the shivers still dragged up his spine at what was lying ahead for them all.

As she left her home his breath was nearly knocked from his chest seeing her in such an absolutely striking outfit. Not even the darkness could keep the cherry red color from glowing against her form and made it only too easy to follow her into the hectic muggle night club. She settled at the farthest end in a booth all alone and he followed suit in the opposite side to keep his eye on her. Taking in all the people around him he felt a tad more in his element with all the unwashed and more rebelliously dressed folks littering the club. The odd look he had grown so used to seeing on her soothed over her face as she ordered up a beer and sank awkwardly into her seat. For nearly an hour she sat idly in her seat drinking two beers and eyeing the dance floor raking in the view of all the trancing bodies moving in a certain groove. If he hadn't known better he'd almost of assumed the look she was radiating was pure lust and longing at the scene before her. Reaching in her satchel she procured that same black tin he'd observed so many times and slid something out from it and into her mouth before washing it down with her beer. A sick feeling struggled in the pit of his stomach as he'd never actually seen her take anything from the tin before. It had for so long still remained a puzzle with no pieces but now he finally had something to place with it. It couldn't be what he thought it was or could it?

As the minutes passed her posture and general demeanor changed significantly and if he had been closer he knew that he would see a far away look glossing over her eyes. Things were starting to look like they were heading in the direction he never expected to cross with her and it unnerved him incalculably. Chugging off the last of her beer she struggled majorly to get out of her booth and make her way towards the dance floor she'd been questioning all night. As the crowd welcomed her into their sticky saccharine pattern he felt that unwelcomed sense of jealousy writhe inside of him again. The flashing lights and pulsing beat made it hard for him to focus on her as she bobbed and weaved in and out of spots and up and down against other bodies. His head was swimming and he hadn't even had a drink yet but the territorial need was still wiggling about in his limbs causing them to tap angrily before he made what he thought was the next rational step. He popped up from his seat and made a targeted bee line for the dance floor until his eyes locked back onto her.

Several men had inched upon her body and were grinding against her as she indulged just as well in their presence losing herself entirely to the music and the sensations. Watching these men grope their filthy hands all over her body brought a venomous taste to his mouth and his towering form soon emerged behind her giving quite a scare to the other men who quickly scattered back away to any other woman nearby. He had mastered his scowl quiet well and showed just enough teeth to make clear that he was not one to mess around with. Aching for more physical contact she spun around and continued dancing with the nearest person which in this case was him. Fiery hot electricity flayed all his nerves alive as her hands sought contact with his chest and her big doe eyes all glassy and distant looked up at him pleadingly.

"Dance with me please."

Her voice was nearly a haughty whisper and he felt all his confidence falter at the power she was having over him so effortlessly. This was a dangerous game that he was playing but he was already waist deep with no way to escape. She bit her lip vicariously and slid her hands inch by inch down his chest until she reached his waist line and tugged him in close to her. The tables had flipped and in this moment he was no longer the one doing the hunting; she was the one hunting him. A twitch in his thigh dispelled any chance he had of talking himself out of this one and before he knew it they were moving against each other in rhythm and entangling him in a sweaty clutter of unbridled lust. Sliding his arms around the lowest point of her waist he felt her take the lead and just mimicked what she was doing in a desperate attempt to seem skilled at this. His leather jacket felt ten times heavier soaked in sweat and stuck to his skin uncomfortably but nothing could shake him from this feeling and this moment being in such close proximity to her. As the minutes turned to more than an hour they fell into such great sync that they could no longer tell where one person began and the other ended. It was hypnotic and entrancing for them both to just let go so freely and let no personal thoughts track their every move. For once it was just their bodies taking hold and seeking comfort in someone else similar. Flesh bore on flesh and bruised soul upon bruised soul seeking to fill a desperate aching just squirming under their skin.

Only once his hair was drenched and slicked against his face did he slow them down and suggest they move back to a seat for a break. It pained every fiber of his being to be removed from physical contact with her but his head was starting to spin he was so thirsty and he knew she would be just as bad off. Nodding absent mindedly she gripped his hand and pulled him along to her booth and settling into the side opposite him. Flagging down a waitress he pulled out crumpled money from his pocket to buy them both waters and felt a flush of slight edginess being in a much more typical setting with her. He never let himself get this close.

He never let himself get so enthralled with a woman.

He had never felt like this in his entire life.

He had made a fine mess.

"So tell me beautiful, what brings you here tonight?"

Even if his body was betraying him he kept up his cool detached tone with little to no effort. The deep tenor of gentle voice brought a shiver up her spin and shook her a bit from her trance to focus in on him. He wasn't very conventionally attractive she thought but she'd never really been once who cared for that much anyways. Though the room was too dark to tell she figured his eyes for some shade of blue and could tell by his unshaven stubble and disarrayed brown untidy hair that he wasn't one for putting much stock in physical appearance as well. She swore she spotted a long red streak in the nest of brown as well but wasn't sure in this lighting. Something about him though brought flurried light feelings in her chest and a rosy blush to her cheeks. The black eyeliner smudged around his eyes only made the smolder he was giving her disarm her even more as he waited patiently for an answer.

Ordinarily she would no better than to bare any amount of her heart to a stranger but she was in a muggle club and figured what would be the chances she would ever see him again anyways. With much trepidation she decided she would let him know the gist of things without betraying her own code. A truth hidden in an open statement very well couldn't get her in much trouble could it? Perhaps she should try to salvage some sense of coyness though after her flagrant display on the dance floor with him.

"Can't a girl just want to have a little fun?"

The tone was brazen and even flirty as her fingers twiddled with the water bottle in their grasp and stared at him unabashed. Who was this girl and what had she done with Hermione's body?

"I 'figure if I introduce myself maybe you will tell me the truth now won't ya doll?"

He meant it as a demand but carefully tried to place it in a question to catch her off guard. He was tried of being the one in the prey position and was ready to be the hunter again. His hands glided over the table and placed themselves upon hers stilling them against the cold plastic under them. His hands were hot and slick and she could still recall their feeling on her skin. Though she should have been more nervous it was as if the weight just slid right off her shoulders and he knew that he had found his in.

"Names Scabior beautiful 'an what should I call you?"

A peculiar name for a peculiar man she mused to herself. As the seconds ticked past she was becoming more and more aware of the feeling of his hands on hers and she swore her face was probably the color of the crimson carpeting below their feet. Not wanting to give him her full name she mentally settled on going by her middle name Jean since it wasn't technically lying.

"You can call me Jean and dear Scabior I'm here because things are looking rather grim for me and I needed a temporary escape if you must know."

The long drawl in her tone almost made her shudder thinking how eerily similar she had just sounded to professor Snape. She hadn't meant it at all to sound entirely bored with his question but it just slipped out. His side heavy smirk made her heart flutter ever so noticeable and he had yet to still remove his hands but she didn't want to ask or move them herself. The feeling was so comforting and it had been so long since she had felt an actual physical connection to someone. It was almost as if he existed on the other side of the veil that she had long been trapped on separated from others. The bleariness had still not left her eyes and she wore exhaustion like a second skin as she sunk into this intimate moment with him. He swallowed heavy in their silence reeling in just an unsettling thoughts but tried his best to maintain his skilled level of half disinterest.

"I'd say we're in the same boat love. Mind sharing my company for the evenin'?"

It was a risky move to get closer but he had dug his hole and was prepared to lay in it. He realized agonizingly he would do anything just to keep feeling her silky skin under his calloused fingertips. It was a calculated move though as he knew there was also a fair chance she would not recall the details of his face or countance after this night because of all the things she was under the influence of. She was well blitzed out of her mind proper and he felt the distinct need as always to make sure she would make it home safe. It was sickening to know he'd grown so found of her but it was an investment he had to keep track of. The pattern was truly beginning to grow on him though he'd never admit to it.

"I'm not one for spending the night with a stranger but Merlin…might as well."

Hesitation rode heavy behind every word and she almost regretted it as she said it but it was too late. The light smile dancing on her lips had betrayed her and she knew that a tiny part of her wanted to stay near to this man she barely even knew. He found himself staring at her lips and aching to press a thumb to the bottom one and find out if they were as soft as he had imagined they were. Between the visions flashing in his mind of finding that just out and his brain also trying to grasp for a plan of where to take this next with her he was floundering. Just another thing to tack on a long list of reasons why he needed to stop letting himself fall into this trap with her. It was a vicious cycle always leaving him feeling unsure and he was never a man without plan.

"This place is a bit stuff love, 'ow about we head down to the all the night coffee shop and settled up a bit?"

It was truly the first thing to come to mind and he was amazed he'd even been able to offer that up with how much he was swimming. As much as he fancied another chance at an intense dance session with her it was too tormenting to even consider the idea only making his thigh twitch even more at the thought. She knew that sobering up would be a good idea and without hesitation accepted the invitation of course. And just like that they were stumbling out back onto the city streets and meandering through scattered crowds of other rowdy weekenders out having a pleasurable night as well. The stumbling was mostly on her part though as he shifted himself to be up against her as they walked so she could lean on him trying to find her proper footing. Neither one sure of just where this evening would take them but acutely aware of this new sensation of closeness they hadn't known they ever missed.


	4. Don't Give Up On The Wanting

_Back again with the newest chapter! I'm aiming to have Chapter Five up by Friday or Saturday evening for you guys. Thank you so much once again for following this story and an extra thank you to Bleedingheart2XLoLoa for the kind review! With this chapter we will finally see a real intimate moment for our pair leaving them even more unsettled :)_

 _I added three little graphics for this fic on my tumblr page if you guys want to see them at all they're there and I'll probably upload more to my page my url is keatonsbrokenheart_

 _ **Chapter Three: Don't Give Up On The Wanting**_

"So tell me about yourself….Scabior was it? What are you trying to escape from?"

Just hearing her speak his name created a jumble of knots in his stomach. He couldn't remember a time where someone spoke his name so innocently.

Not in a superior demand.

Not in aghast fear.

Not in trepidation.

It was so unknown but almost promising.

Her eyes tried meagerly to focus on his face and memorize every line and every speck of unshaven hair. Though the edges still blurred she could see him much better now and found herself greedily trying to take in every aspect of him. In this softer light she could tell she was very dead on with his eyes, though they were a much more steel colored light blue as they focused on the path in front of them. She wasn't sure when but she'd looped her arm through his but found herself comfortably wound around him such a pleasant manner. It was still of necessity as she was still struggling to keep her footing even but even if she was able to walk entirely properly she knew she'd possibly fake it just to keep this contact. His face remained as cold as a stone under her straining eyes and she knew that he was the type of man who wouldn't give away his secrets so easily. She understood that very well.

"Well it's a daily affair for me I 'suppose. Why wouldn't I want to ya know? People always complain being on the go is tiresome but I fancy it quite so 'cause it's what I do best."

Pride was very obvious in his voice and though it peaked her interest to know what he did a meager part of her thought not to push it too far just yet.

 _Take it slow Hermione you don't want to scare him off._

It was vague but truthful of an answer and he knew it would satisfy her on some level. Maybe she would understand, maybe she would even understand, but he didn't hold his hopes too high on it. How would a girl so close to the ground be able to reach them anyways? She continued to eye him fiercely with a look he couldn't quite determine and he feared viciously he'd already ruined his chance. Would that really bother him that much? Would it affect him all that much to lose her presence in his life? He couldn't fathom an answer he wanted to accept for that question.

"I never would expect something so deep from someone like you. I mean no offense with that I mean…rather that you just seem very indifferent to things. Very detached and clever and cool more to say. Erm, I feel I'm only talking myself in incomprehensible circles with this…"

Finally her eyes wandered off their trained gaze on him and towards the walk way in front of them. Only then was he allowed his chance to peer down at her and see the flustered look gracing her face. He chuckled freely never having seen this side of her yet before. It was one he rather liked just as much as the distant mysterious side of her.

"A bit pissed still beautiful? You can hammer back a beer as well as any lad I know. I mean that in a round about compliment sort of way."

They locked eyes for the first time since leaving the club and she was instantly enamored by his toothy genuine grin that glimmered down at her. Why was her heart thumping so loud? Was her heart trying to escape her heart from all the excess or was this just an ill-fated fear of sharing such a candid moment with someone? She worried she had already begun to crawl too far under his skin to be removed from this intense connection. His deep laugh shook down his arm and she could feel its vibrations nearly in her own chest.

"You're absolutely right I'm afraid. I'm not too great at being ladylike my best friends often tell me that I'm far too brash and proud to be like other women. If I wasn't though I fear they'd never survive because no one else as smart as me would be able to deal with them."

It was true and she found herself smiling and reminiscing of times long past now of them in the Gryffindor common rooms arguing over thoughtless things. It had all been so much easier back then even if it didn't seem like it at the time. The minor interactions and battles against the dark lord seemed so microscopic compared to having to face him and an entire army head on. She knew she was looking back at things with rose tinted glasses but there was much truth still in that outlook. Back then she hadn't fallen into this strange detached head space that she currently resided in. She could still touch and feel and comprehend everything happening around her. Her fingers could grip something without fear that they would slip right out from under her. She imagined it was a lot like being a ghost in someone else's skin. Something just didn't settle right like the flesh was a fraction of an inch too big and would some times slide against bones and rub areas raw with the traction. Had she perhaps accidentally died without knowing it? Was this some sort of limbo that she'd been sent to in some chance to atone for unidentified sins?

That thousand mile stare he'd become accustomed to was boring holes through the concrete in front of them and he worried momentarily he'd have to physically shake her just to bring her back. A riddle wrapped in an enigma and he knew he was still no closer to figuring her out. They'd reached the coffee shop and he brought them to a stop in hopes she would rouse from whatever distant plane she had travelled to. When this still did not bring her back he made his first completely uncalculated move when it came to her. Taking his free arm he brought his hand to gently rest on her cheek pulling her face up to his and before he could even see if her face read any recognition he brought his lips to hers.

It was more than skin on skin.

It was more than two people's lips melding together.

It was whispered lingering hope and tangible dreams she could almost see herself reaching out and touching to curl her fingers around. It was raw and real and for once it was something she could actually feel. Maybe it was a cry that escaped her lips when they parted or perhaps it was a moan; she wasn't sure anymore what to think. All the thoughts in her mind had come to a screeching halt. No definitions. No ponderings. No logical tracking of this new found feeling. All there was to hear was her heart thumping, thumping, thumping, like the pounding of a war drum. Blood flushing every inch of skin as the feeling rapidly took her over and leaving her with a vacant mind.

"That was…"

No words could even fall into her mouth because she was just so astounded that something like this was real and palpable. His eyes seemed to be reeling with the same sentiment as he looked straight in her eyes with the same puzzled emotion playing on his lips.

"Absolutely amazing love…well we best be heading on in before the people in the window think they're about to get a free show."

Even now his wit didn't let him down and he winked at her before placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her through the doorway. Pin pricks inched up her skin around where his hand rested like he was sending shocks into her very core flaying the top layers of skin. It was more magnetic than anything she'd ever felt before. As they seated themselves in a back corner ordering their drinks she found she couldn't bring her eyes to meet his anymore. It was terrifying to know someone she hardly knew could have this kind of power over her. Could she still really be a ghost trapped in limbo if something made her feel so corporeal in her own body? All the nights pining over Ron and tugging at him hoping he'd be the one to make her feel like this and it didn't come in the shape of her best friend. It came in the shape of this older man with strange tangled hair and a distant persona.

Even if her eyes weren't on him she could feel his directly upon her as she fidgeted nervously with her satchel. His mind was throbbing with all the bullet points of why this was so wrong. All the countless things he'd already noted just from watching her at a generous space. His brain screamed wrong but his body protested with all the reasons that it felt so right. Sitting here now across from her he already missed the sensation of her nestled up against his side. Something inside of him told him that it's exactly where she belonged. Another thing to add to the list of reasons this was wrong, he was a loner and that's exactly the kind of life he was meant to lead. It had always been and always would be. This was playing with a double edged razor and he knew once the pendulum dropped he would be impaled on one of the sides. Was he really thinking of taking that risk just for this flighty curious woman before him?

 _Yes_

 _Yes_

 _Yes_

 _Yes_

His body shivered and wiggled knowing the answer already but he refused to let his brain echo the words as well. Perhaps if he just kept thinking to his self…

 _No_

 _No_

 _No_

 _No….._

 _Merlin's beard it was a hopeless cause._

Sipping idly on his coffee still watching her avoiding him with trembling fingers he knew that he would fall into her and crawl through all the worst things imaginable just to keep her near him. If she would let him he would trade every moral he had just to keep replicating this sensation flooding through his entire being. Rationally he knew it would tear him in two in the end but it was a risk he was yet again willing to take, but would she be willing to take it too?

 _How could she ever want someone like him too?_


	5. Darklands

_Hello my lovelies! Sorry for the delay, truthfully I ended up rewriting sections of this chapter over a few times because it just wasn't conveying the emotion I wanted, but I believe this chapter is exactly what I was aiming for. Thank you as always for hanging in here with me and following along with me on this journey!_

 ** _Chapter Five : Darklands_**

War was a terminally vicious mistress that sought out to destroy every form of love it was jealous of. It was spiteful and malicious with a temper that could rival all the Gods in any lore. The sun would disappear on these lawless and wild woods leaving only the sound of animals and unyielding wind. To say it had become an isolating and lonely life was to say too little. She would count the days down in her leather bound notebook even knowing that it would bring her no real comfort. In a way perhaps it could be a marking of the last days of her life if something ill would befall her. It was morbid and a bit deranged way of thinking but with nothing but the sound of your own voice and the crackled static of strangers listing the names of the dead it was hard not to think in such a manner. Her only real reprieve would be the occasional song that would echo from the speakers and soothe the unrest inside her as she sat under the stars eating cold canned foods. By her count it had been nearly four months since she'd seen another person up close. Ron and Harry had been so quickly separated from her during their escape from the Ministry Of Magic. When she landed on the stiff muddy ground she searched for them shouting their names until her throat was raw but she knew that they were gone. It was a stupid and uncharted risk they had taken and she knew it. She could only hope that they were somewhere safe and that their interrupted apparation hadn't spliced them into an unknown world; or worse into utter fleshy ribbons.

It had been six months since she dreamed of that perfect evening with that mysterious man who seemed to keep lingering in her dreams ever since. Had it really been a dream though if she still had physical proof of his existence? Beneath the stars wrapped in an old tattered quilt her eyes bore endlessly searching the blackened space for some kind of answers. Her fingers absent mindlessly toying with the kudu shaped ring she wore on a chain around her neck. The chain was cheap and had already started to varnish into copper in the spots around her neck itself but the ring stayed its ever striking pure silver shade and stayed pressed against her body every moment of every painfully empty day. Her only real reminder she could hold against her and remember that there was a world and life for her outside of these woods and that maybe she could even return to it. Even if she never did see that life again though, at least she had this one pocket sized memento to clutch at the end.

Even now alone and freezing surrounded by nothing but trees she could still picture his face clear as day in her mind. The memory in whole was hazy and distant as though it happened in a past life but his features and the way his hand felt pressed against hers was burned into her mind. Just thinking of the sensation sent hot pin pricks up her arm and down her spine. How could she possibly be missing a man she hardly even knew? Relieving the memory of that night was one of the few things that could help her through the bleak autumn nights like this one. Thoughtfully tracing over the contours of his face and the stature of his long legs would distract her from the ever looming reminder of the all death that was just beyond the horizon for her. The idling of his body close and protective on the doorstep of her family home as neither one of them wanted to part just yet. There was a look passing between both of them hopelessly and almost frantically searching for a sign that the other wanted to enclose in an abashed but nectarous embrace once more. Desperately longing and aching the other was not misreading their intentions as tepid and lackadaisical. Even months later after having reviewed the moment so many times she still didn't understand why she was the one to make the first move. Logically she rationed it could have been the drugs or the alcohol still pulsing through her veins giving way to such impulsive behavior but she knew somewhere deep inside it was much more like two magnets on opposite poles connecting against each other by a much more earth bound destiny.

His lips were anatomically the same as any other she'd had the pleasure of feeling against her own but something about them just felt so different as his unshaven face scratched against hers in the midst of the passionate kiss. It was such a strange new feeling to her and she soon found her arms winding up around his neck and lightly grazing over his tangled black hair. His hands stayed ever pressed to the sides of her hips though as he searched for more but he kept a safe pace. It was confusing as he didn't seem the type but looking back upon the moment she was ever so grateful that he hadn't taken any form of advantage over her still inebriation muddled mind. He was a total stranger with an entire history she didn't even know but in that very moment she felt safer than she ever had in her whole life in his arms. She wasn't one to give mind to hocus pocus ideology like soul mates or predestined fate even though she knew that was slightly small minded coming from someone who could perform real magic. Something about this man and that night though would dig away at her usually iron clad beliefs when she reflected on that alluring pull that sat between them all evening.

The wind kicked up with a load roar through the dying trees of the forest and she shuddered with the reminder that from this death the woods would be reborn some day. Could the world do the exact same once this cycle ended and spring a new from the crumpled ashes? How many bodies would have to fall to the ground before the cycle even decided that it was over? In tangible thought process she knew that before the spring of new life there would have to be a decidedly harsh span of nothing but desolate cold death and the digging of trenches soon to be filled to the brim with decay. How many people would have to look into the eyes of their loved ones and see nothing reflected back but hollowness? How many people would have to clutch the icy stricken bodies of their children to their chest and cry endless sobs for a God above to hear them and their pleas? How many people would be left somewhere unfound to become one with the earth above with no one to whisper a silent amen for them? She wanted nothing but to trade all their gravestones for an eternal promise that it would never happen to anyone else again. Intelligence was a cruel beast though and allowed the rational realization that war was an unavoidable plague on mankind that they would never truly be free from no matter how many bodies the ground had to devour in repentance.

It was almost missed as she delved deep into her despairing thoughts and in truth she thought that she had just imagined it but then it happened again. Leaves were crunching purposefully and not just from the wind whipping them around the forest floor. Closer and closer they came and she edged herself backwards as carefully and as quietly as possible to remain unnoticed. It was an unneeded action though as she had put up countless wards to keep her hidden from anyone who may stumble upon her humble living arrangement. At this point though she was living on only pure instinct though and it was hard to shut off. Fear was pounding her heart to levels it hadn't felt in months but she knew there was a sort of adrenaline to it all that she may see another person for once. It was a distressed and foolish thought as she knew she couldn't betray her hiding spot if she favored keeping her life still. Then she saw a tangled mess of black and red dart behind a tree just on the edge of her barriers. It couldn't be….

Could it?


	6. Every Time I Rise I See You Fall

_Back again! Hopefully you guys haven't been too impatient for this one, I promise we are slowly reaching more face to face scenes between our two hopeless lovers, but there will be a bit more pain in the in between. As always, thank you so much for hanging around and reading my little tale!_

 _Chapter Six : Every Time I Rise, I See You Fall_

It was if she'd pulled the parachute cord just a moment too late and felt the ground rapidly coming up on her. As if all the blood in the soil was calling to her ready to devour her whole and consume her with all the other lost wanderers. As if she was just another to be claimed by the greedy hungry souls lurking in the shadows. Was this what true madness felt like? Perhaps the isolation had crawled under her skin more than she'd realized. The unnerving loneliness of it worming into her brain like a parasite and making a nest day by day displacing more and more of her sanity with its renovations. The moment had passed and what she thought she glimpsed was gone sooner than it had arrived. Desperately her eyes scanned every tree, every rock, every open space, hoping to see his dirt speckled face and crystalline eyes. Again and again they turned up empty finding nothing but the cold emptiness staring back at her. Panic was seizing her chest and racking her limbs harder and harder as she fought back angry sobs and shook like a rattled branch as she dug around her pockets for that little black tin. Everything was shaking around her and soon she could no longer tell if it was her or the environment as the heated pin pricks glided through her whole body and black and white dots began to litter her vision.

There wasn't enough time though and just as she felt it under the tips of her fingers the ground grasped readily for its sacrifice and she felt the world bowing beneath her soles as she wondered if she was sinking down or the world was rising up. Things began urgently to fade from her vision but just before the point of entering the hollow abyss she swore she saw a reflection of a rocky ocean coast gazing back at her. Something thick and wet dripped onto her face and she wondered if the sky was crying for her. Surely it was only the madness taunting her cruelly as it claimed its victim and she welcomed the darkness like an old friend when it enveloped her fully. Perhaps this once she wouldn't be haunted by the dreams of a life time that seemed farther and farther away. Perhaps just this once she would truly sleep and never wake back up to a world that was disintegrating.

 _He'd been watching her. Following her. Keeping his distance as he always had._

His job had gotten much more demanding though and he could only track her on odd occasions but he just couldn't give up making sure that she was safe. His worry was over bearing when she'd suddenly appeared alone without her two friends but he couldn't risk exposing his presence to her. Not when there was a bounty on her head. He never realized just how much trouble he'd gotten himself into until the Ministry had been taken over by the dark lord. Then the flyers began being posted everywhere there was a wall with open space. He hadn't seen her in days at that point but as he walked along a busy shuffled hallway on the Ministry's main floor he caught sight of her face out of the corner of his eye and near toppled several people behind him when he came to grinding hault. A lump in his throat was forming hastily and his jaw clenched seeing the photos of her and the boys. _Wanted dead or alive_. He had been trying to ignore his burgeoning affections towards the girl but the anger that was rising in his core made it obvious anyone who tried to hurt her would have to go through him first. The mere thought of stumbling upon her body lifeless and vacant of all the life that he found so enchanting was like a dagger plunging and twisting in his chest.

His visits to watch her had grown more and more frequent after that day but he still couldn't bring himself to approach her. She was as ever a clever girl and had she not worn his bewitched ring around her neck he would have never seen through her protective charms. It caused a funny twitch in his chest the first time he realized she kept the ring on her constantly, but he was never more grateful. Every time he would watch her as she sat beneath the blackening sky looking pleadingly at the stars. He would give anything to hear the thoughts in her head and feel the pulse beating in her hands. Anything could be the price tag just to feel close to her once more like that night they shared. In dreams he would search for her and instead of hiding behind her shields and the shadows run towards her and take her into his arms. He would run his calloused unwashed hands over her untamed curls and lean in close to smell her intoxicating fragrance once more. See the wanting in his own eyes mirrored back at him as her tiny little hands lightly rested around his own and knowing that they had found some sort of unknown bliss.

It was almost physically painful when he would awake from the dreams alone in his own tent with no one and nothing to provide him the heartfelt comfort he was longing for. The entire experience was such uncharted territory for him and he couldn't understand how to process it. The only thing he knew was snatching and living on his own. After his every trip to see her he would return only more frustrated and annoyed folding himself even more into his next snatch. Running through the woods till his boots bore blistered into his feet and bled through his socks. Frantic and angrily chasing the next mark until the chilling autumn air burned his lungs and blurred his vision. He was applauded greatly by the Ministry for his impressive growing number of catches. He had more bounty money than he'd ever had in his life but some how he just felt nothing about it. No pride. No joy. Not even the money made anything ring through his mind. All he could do was replace the vacancy with the pain he's always known so well. It was nowhere near enough to fill the hole sinking in his chest but it was enough to soothe the sores until he could see her again. And then the cycle just repeated again and again.

He was getting careless and he knew it quiet well. Part of him almost wanted to get caught by her. To end this whole damned charade and bring his dreams back to reality once more. Playing cat and mouse could only last so long before he would need to encircle his prey. Darting between two large oak trees he nearly lost his footing on a large branch hidden beneath a pile of leaves. Her fearful reaction was enough to alert him that he'd given himself away but he kept still and persevered in his hiding place. This was what he did best and not even a slip up could tarnish his skills. He watched her silently and realized she was drifting away from the ever present and calculating girl he'd known. She was getting more and more frantic and as he watched her begin to tremble and start to shuffle around his resolve was rapidly dissolving. Something was wrong with her this wasn't normal at all. His own body started to mirror hers on a smaller scale as his legs shuffled nervously and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood holding back from running towards her.

The collision was impending and as her body toppled backwards on the firm ground he darted forwards crashing through the protective shields with ease only to slide onto his knees as she began to black out. He shook her shoulders frantically hovering close to her face to find any kind of recognition in her eyes. The exposed tear in his lip was pooling viscous blood and dripping down on her colorless pallor that he brushed off tenderly with his hands gripping the sides of her face to make her look back at him. Heavy lids rested closed over her eyes and his own hands were now quivering as hers remained still at her sides. Searching for a pulse against her neck he was quickly relieved to find a steady drumming against his fingers and carried her into the tent. How had he become such an easily worried person the girl had obviously just had a massive panic attack and passed out hyperventilating? Still here he was hemming and hawing over her like she'd just had a coronary.

If only his mother could see him like this, he could imagine her now rolling in her grave that he'd become such a gentleman just for one pretty little bird. The thought only tickled him with a long sorted away sadness but as he rested Hermione into her cot and snugged several blankets around her freezing frame it was easy to let the passing thought go. She tended to have that affect on him; he was always just a grudging and bitter man yet with just the modest close proximity to her made him feel there were more important things to worry about. Content that her breathing was steady and she was comfortable he settled into the spot on the floor beside the cot and let himself finally rest a bit. He knew rationally that he would have to be gone again before she awoke but he didn't want to think about that now, he just wanted to spend a few peaceful moments in a comfortable silence next to the person he couldn't keep off his mind. It wouldn't be enough to last, but for just this moment, it was exactly enough.


	7. Almost To The Ground

_Ahh sorry for the late posting here guys! Had some big things happening IRL that had me tied up this past week but I'm posting this chapter now and the next chapter here in an hour or two to make up for it. This one is linear with what's happening in the story, but mostly is here to set up something that occurs in the next chapter and gives more of an explanation for what's happened with Hermione and these magic little pills she relies on._

 ** _Chapter Eight : Almost To The Ground_**

There was never a moment where she could pinpoint to the beginning of her addiction. There was fluidity in the beginning where she didn't expect to rely on it and didn't feel that she was at that stage. For once in her life it was something that had no real calculated rational motivation behind it. During one of the secret Gryffindor dormitory parties Cormac had given her an unnamed pill and told her she just had to try it. She didn't want to at first, running through a mental itinerary of all the reason that it was a bad idea of course. He started jabbing her with light but backhanded comments though that cut her deeper than she'd ever like to admit. Things like how she needed to let loose a little and stop being such a tight end or how people would find her more entertaining to be around if she could just stop nagging for a moment or two. It was cruel even if it was meant in a constructive manner and she realized how grey a light people had cast her in. When had she become such a high strung bother to others? She simply was always driven by a need to make herself feel worthy of this beautiful and magical world that she never would have dreamed of as a small child. So many people here already belonged since birth; it was a right that was bestowed upon them since infancy. Those people used every effort as well to remind her that she did not have the same right to this world in their eyes. It pained her to the very core with just the thought towards it.

So many of her peers took this world for granted not realizing just how amazing it was to be in a place that muggles couldn't even imagine in their dizziest day dream. All she wanted was to make sure that others knew she deserved to be here too but she never really stopped to think maybe they would never see her like that. She would always be obtuse and ill-fitting of every open space she tried so desperately to fill. She just couldn't understand how a world filled with so much beauty could be burdened by so much hate. Even all these years later she was still amazed that she'd some how managed to fit in with Harry and Ron with all their differences. They took advantage of her at times admittedly; all the homework she'd be shuffled off with to help them pass classes and all the ignorant comments from Ron over the years. It was enough to make any other person bow and break but she remained diligent to cling to this one small even ground she'd found.

What if this was an olive branch Cormac was offering? What if this was another grounding she could steady upon and make others open up to her and offer her a warm hand? Logically she knew it was a massively flawed plan but what was the harm in just one try? If it didn't pan out well this night then she'd just simply never take one again and that would be that. It would be like scientific research really, she'd created the hypothesis and now it was time to conduct the experiment to find out if it was a conclusively good idea or not. She never stopped to take in the extraneous variables though that tampered the experiment. She just never stopped to think that maybe she would really like how they made her feel and not others. It was the first selfish thing she'd done in years and that feeling was just so richly powerful she fell in love with the reprieve it gave her.

It might have been the first time she ever truly experienced love on a deeper level and that's what scared her the most. She'd thought she had loved people before, she thought she loved Ron, but those feelings could not hold a flame to how this felt. It set every fiber of her being on fire and then as the ashes of her bones and tightly knitted skin rained back from from the sky they settled just above the blades of grass like soft fallen clouds looking for a place to rest. No longer were things harsh and increasingly realistic but instead everything had taken on a softer shade of rose that tickled her brain. Movements felt more fluid and slowed down enough to leave trails of their pathway and colors seemed to glimmer in shades she'd only seen in movies. It was like functioning on a higher level and it set her senses a flame to experience this world like an entirely different person. This Hermione didn't have a thousand different worries filtering her thoughts and this Hermione didn't have heavy limbs dragging her down across the earth below her feet. This Hermione was light as a balloon and glided with legs that felt as thought they were made of phoenix feathers. Most importantly, this Hermione felt like she was in a place that she belonged and nothing was terrible or scary. It felt safer than she'd been in her whole life and didn't want to give that up. How could she ever live in this real human emotionally decimating world full time?

There was just no way.


	8. Before I Go

_As promised, the next chapter! Scabior's softer side finally has a chance to shine through since no one is around to witness it so you get a small bit a softer look into his character with this one. The next couple chapters after this one are planned to be very dark though as the action heats up and the peril between our two lovers grows. Thank you as always for reading you guys are the best!_

 ** _Chapter Eight : Before I Go_**

Of course instinct told him to leave no trace and maintain the foot trails of a ghost but a nagging inside of him wanted to leave her some kind of reminder. Some tether to him that would find her in a moment of solitude out here in the big bad woods all alone. Looking idly around he finally remembered the leather bound notebook that she'd dropped just outside the tent and made way to go grab it. He wasn't sure exactly just what he would put in it, but it was the best he could do. Her tent was so meticulously organized it was almost jarring for him. He was quite used to the disorganized hovels that he would find solace in at night and wasn't sure how someone could even live in a place so sterile feeling. The sun was still a few hours away from making its appearance above the horizon line and so he settled into the desk in the middle of the room and with quill ready stared down at the front page that had been left blank. Oddly, it was very fitting of her as a person. She presented a very chuffed but hollow first layer of herself to people around her but underneath that layer there were just piles upon piles of unresolved characteristics. It had to be tiring to repeat that day after day he wondered as he glanced between her sleeping form and the notebook.

He fancied she looked a bit like one of those statues you see in a graveyard on a very expensive tomb. A face smooth and tender when looked upon but once touched found to be hardened and a bit covered in environmental grime; an angel that had been tainted by the world around it. He understood the hatred the ruling population now had for her kind on a societal level. He'd always been on that bottom rung himself as a mutt born from a pureblood and muggle though so it wasn't as though he agreed with their newly charged exodus. In fact he was still in the tier of people who could be snuffed out if he so much as glimpsed the wrong way at the wrong person. For now he simply remained in a spot of safety because he offered a need service and as he sat here watching the gentle rising and falling of her chest he wondered just how long he could keep that up. How could anyone look at her face and feel any sort of pure abhorrence? Even go so far as to wish death upon her for existing? To others she may not seem extraordinary at first look sure, she was a pretty average bird physically, but there was something just below the surface that made you stop. Something sparking behind those sullen warrior eyes and the entire presence of her being that would just shake you to the core if you caught it at the right moment in the right light. It was a visceral beauty that tugged at your inner soul and made you want to lose all rational thought.

Something about her just mirrored something in him and that only made this more difficult. His team had been hunting Potter for weeks now and the stakes just kept rising. He knew there was only so much he could do to keep them off of her trail before someone stumbled off and found her before he did. A disgusted shiver crawled up his as he only imagined what would happen if Greyback would find her without him around to shield her from his assaults. The beast was known to be physical with any pretty woman they found on hunts and no one could stop him though many approved of his actions. It churned his stomach just thinking upon it. He'd done many questionable things in his life but laying a finger on a woman in that manner was not one of them. Perhaps getting a bit too close for comfort and unnerving them, but never going any further than that. It was all about tactic, not actually harming the prey himself. A good hunter is always restrained and respectful of the hunt, only an amateur would use it for such darker sullied motives.

Ink was dripping haphazardly on the table and edges of the notebook drawing him back from his silent reverie and he strained himself back on looking only at the notebook. He wasn't very good with words and often found himself sounding just like every other street peddler but he wanted this to be just right and something special. Nothing it seemed could ever be exceptional enough for her though in his mind as he often found himself mulling over nonexistent conversations he could possibly have with her. Truly, that was his favorite way to spend the mind numbing hours travelling through the woods and towns looking for hiders. Many times he imagined the conversations ending in wild arguments where she ran herself into circles trying to justify something. She may not have spoken that much to him in person but it seemed just like an action that suited her. Like the sudden on slaught of a torrential downpour an idea poured into his mind and he set quickly away scribbling onto the paper finally.

"There's a dream that never ends in my mind where time just slips away and the sun never sets on us again. Maybe some day we will share that same dream. For what it's worth, it feels like night never ends for me too. Until the time is right….."

In truth it was the most thoughtful and well composed thing he'd ever even remotely said. It was almost like he was a Victorian poet writing a thoughtful prose for his beloved while away in an opposing country. While the ink set to dry he jumped softly from his seat and shuffled out into the area just around the tent searching intently for something. This new found entrancing feeling was heaving inside his chest like a heavy smoke he couldn't escape. He wanted the smoke to smother him with its sweet cherry like aroma that he knew so well and never let him leave. After fifteen minutes or so he found exactly what he was looking for as he spotted a palm sized purple wild flower still in bloom hiding beneath layers of leaves. In this desecrated frozen ground this divine little flower had some how survived just like her. Nearly running back to the tent he checked the ink then pressed the flower in-between the middle pages of the journal hoping that it would hold form properly come morning. It was such a foreign thing for him to do but he'd seen enough pictures in muggle London over the years to know it was the kind of gesture a lady would want.

As she tossed and turned a bit more frequently under her bedding he knew that it was time for him to take his leave and part with her once more. It pained him to be parted from her side but he would find his way back just like he always did. He was only more certain now that he never wanted to stray from her too long leaving her alone like this. He'd spent most of his life living this way and he wouldn't wish it on most of his enemies, let alone someone who he genuinely found himself caring for. Standing beside her bed he looked down upon her once more as if to memorize all the lines and curves of her face as if he might never see them again. With a swift but tentative bow he left a parting kiss on her forehead and turned off out of the tent without a backwards glance. This side of him was reserved for her and her alone and now it was time to return to the man he always had been as he left her wards and apparated to his squad's camp grounds.

The only reminder of what just transpired was the humming in his chest as he felt the connection between the two of them through his ring that nestled against her own sleeping body.


	9. Asleep

_I have returned with another installment! I feel the need to apologize if the story seems slow at all, I have plans for this to be a rather long tale and thus having to pace it all out. This is another rather strange chapter with some foreshadowing of things to come. Thank you as always my dears for reading!_

 _ **Chapter Nine / Asleep**_

A fever dream took hold of her conscious as she spun and spun before crashing to the ground but felt no reverb as she collided. It was so vivid though that if not for the lack of pain she would have sworn that it was real life and not fantasy. Everything around her seemed tangible as she traced her fingers over the stone walls of Hogwarts that she missed so much. So desperately she longed to be back in these very hallways worrying about turning in assignments on time and fretting over what score she would get on her NEWTS. Peeve's ghost lingered past her offering a gentle and friendly smile as she continued on down what seemed like a never ending hallway. The hallway seemed to only grow the further and further she got but it was so serene and quiet in this world that she raised no alarm over it internally. This was exactly the thing she'd been aching for over the past few weeks; a familiar place with warm glowing lanterns and a sense of comfort wrapping around her like a blanket that'd been left in front of a roaring fireplace. To feel the sensation of something that would lull away the chill that ached inside her skin down to the bones leaving her feeling so empty and afraid. This was what home was meant to feel like.

As she reached what finally seemed like the end of the hall way a figure seemed to manifest in front of her but it was blurred and shaky almost like a projection with a bad connection. It was quite taller than her and something about it seemed vaguely familiar but she couldn't put a match in her mind to it. Whatever it was reached down and placed a kiss upon her forehead and she almost jumped back in natural reaction to the sensation. It wasn't human feeling but instead left a shock when their skins touched like a tiny jolt of electricity. Her fingers quickly rubbed at her forehead searching for some kind of burn or swelling but found nothing amiss. The figure started to fizzle and crack until it ultimately vanished before her leaving nothing behind to signal that it even existed at all. Idly her fingers reached out searching the vacant air before her trying to find some tendril or shadow left to give her a clue of what just happened but her grasp turned up unfilled. In the absence though the air still felt oddly charged with the lingering pulse of electricity that she had felt just moments prior, causing her to step back worried it would manifest again in the very spot she preoccupied.

Moment after moment passed with no reappearance and she found herself continuing her journey though the door that was just beyond the space. She knew Hogwarts like the back of her very own hand but she could not place this door and where it was located in the school. It was a very ordinary door to be honest so her unfamiliarity with it gave her no pause when she pushed through it with little struggle. The room was dimly lit and very bare except for a pensieve that waited almost expectantly in the middle of it all. Knowing nothing here could hurt her she walked over to it and dipped her head in as though it was merely second nature. Everything except for the mysterious specter here felt as fluid and as clear as the real world her sleeping body presided in.

At first the pensieve offered only muddled confusing thoughts and memories that nearly gave her a migraine until they settled down to a slower pace and the visions before her started to take proper shape. There was a glimpse of her walking through the woods with her satchel looking around paranoid and on edge but it didn't last long. Next was a glance of Harry and Ron trying frantically to destroy the locket with their wands but making no real progress. Her heart yearned and jumped at the same time seeing their faces and she longed to reach out and touch them but once more they grasped nobody. What did this damned dream want from her if nothing but to cause more heartache? Things seemed to be drenched with a darker shade of black as the visions came more and more. They were moving rapidly again and all that she could catch were scattered moments.

One of her running petrified through the woods dodging logs and branches with her breath bearing down so heavily it gave her dream self pause to touch her own chest.

One of her in a nearly black room on positively black wooden floors with nothing but a sliver of gleaming moonlight cutting across her body.

One of the back of a man with a long leather coat carrying something substantially large wrapped in a blanket through the twilight hour in a garden she'd never seen before.

And then all she could see was blood. Viscid and plentiful it was practically pouring across stone work tiles stopping just short of her own feet in the vision. Her own reflection in the crimson pool was contorting and twisting as though it couldn't take form of her causing a panicked fear to push her back from the pensieve and the memories. Landing flat on her bottom she clutched her chest searching for something that should be around her neck but for the third time she was clasping only unoccupied air. What could this possible mean? The once warm and inviting sensation around her started to melt away as the dream world withered with it and the fear only double in her body. It was then with a start she almost leapt straight from her cot in the tent as she pushed awake with a fright.

 _It was only a dream._

 _It was only a dream._

 _It was only a dream._

 _Be rational!_

The mantra repeated in her head as her heart slowed down to a less frenzied rate and her hands unconsciously searched her chest until clutching tightly to the chain and ring that were still safe above it.

 _Safe thoughts think safe happy thoughts._

 _New parchments and fresh ink._

 _Crookshanks snuggling against your feet._

 _Mothers buttery lush mashed potatoes on Christmas evening._

 _His rough hands on top of yours in a noisy café and the scent of mocha and coffee beans._

 _His unshaven bristly chin as it brushed against yours on your mothers doorstep and his breath hot and tempting on your lips._


	10. Something Rotten Something Divine

_Hello guys! I'm so so so sorry for the massive wait on this chapter life stuff has been bogging down all my creativity but I am making the come back! Thank you so much for sticking with me on this dreary tale, but I promise our light at the end of the tunnel is not too far off for these young lovers._

 _ **Chapter Ten / Something Rotten Something Divine**_

To say there was a void would be to vastly underestimate the severity of the situation. It was almost a festering sore that collapsed into blank darkened space. Her fingers would thumb the wound absently until pain throbbed through the unoccupied space. As the days passed it only swelled in size and the infection started to trickle into her blood. It was a vacant sickness that left her emotionally crippled and feigning ignorance of the voice clamoring in the back of her mind. They spoke in low tones at first, building up for a proper appearance. Madness had finally come for her and she couldn't say in the least that she was surprised. It had been a long time coming by now when all she had to talk to were the trees that towered above her weakened body and the stray forest creatures that skittered away from her as soon as she spoke. She'd read once that sustained absence from human contact would have adverse negative affects starting with emotional to physical ailments but she never imagined just how damning it would be.

She wasn't even entirely sure by now if her count of time was accurate as the days started to blur together in the solitude. On the very rare occasion she'd happen upon a muggle village and sneak like a thief in the night to gather supplies from closed down stores and various shops but it had been weeks since then. Supplies were running dangerously low and her pills had long since run out. Desperation was taking its heavy toll but not as badly as withdrawal. It began with simple shakes on the first evening without. Her hands and legs began trembling and shaking like infant tree sprouts but it was still the dead of winter so she dismissed it as so. The next couple days began the abdominal pains and aches coursing through every inch of her body as she curled into her blankets on the cot. After so long of course it had let up but in its place all the pain left a void. For so long it had taken up this space inside of her and filled her with this bliss of soothing and tender soft edges but now it was gone and she didn't know what to feel. Could she even feel anything anymore?

She was sure she felt something. Every night that she lay awake in a bundle fiddling with that damned ring she was sure there was a memory and a pattern there. A feeling that lay underneath all that empty space she was hiding behind. Fear held her back though from prodding too deep. All the festering and oozing pain that crusted around the wound had to be hiding something rotten. Some dead part of her body that was haunting her like a phantom limb taking up all of her vitality and draining her of the life left in her. How could she have ever come this far? The golden girl of Gryffindor who once seemingly had it all. She was more than once called the glue that held the golden trio together but where were they now? She had no clue if they were even alive. Her radio listed off names night after night but theirs were never echoed through the tent. It was truly the one good thing holding her to this forsaken place.

That was besides him of course. She couldn't recall the last time she saw his face in person. Dates meant nothing in this place. The rough feeling of his unshaven beard beneath her finger tips was still clear as a bell. The thought of the deep tenor of his voice whispering brashly in her ear and even the pull of his hand on her waist tranced in her pounding mind. Even a familiar chaste touch of his chapped lips on her forehead? When had that happened….she couldn't put a memory to the sensation but the feeling was so real as she brushed her hand across her forehead remembering it. He was but a ghost in her life no more real than the phantom sore that drive her wild every waking moment of her days. Had he ever been truly real or was he just a fever dream of her last adolescent days? Surely he had to have been real or she wouldn't have this strange ring to plague her mind every night. The line between real and hallucination was getting thinner and thinner and it was starting to truly scare her. Is understanding loneliness the true folly of man or is it our shallow attempts at self preservation in the face of madness? In the dead of night the angels would sing to her the sweet praises of lifting from the body holding her captive and leaving behind the mortal coil. Their voices are so soft and heavenly always foretelling stories of a place where she'd no longer have a void inside of her. Only love and pure blinding light would fill her presence and there'd be no more fear. Oh rejoice! Sing the praises of hallelujah! They sang promises of an existence full of only love and grace to heal her of all the wounds. It was a beautiful vision she never thought herself worthy of in any regard and yet here they were offering it to her on a silver and gold inlaid platter. Their glassy sparkling eyes looking down upon her like the false reflection of a window pane.

It was just a lie. A filthy illusion crafted by the insanity that was riddling her. Madness trying to rob her of the last thing she had that was precious to her; her own life. Her wild rabid eyes began scouring the bushes around her for the berries that she'd been eating for days now to stave off the hunger ravaging her body. They were small but plentiful in juicy splendor that stained her tongue and lips with a poisonous opaque cerise. It was a fatal mistake that had she been in her right mind from the start she surely wouldn't have made but the fates don't always roll our dice fair. Though isolation and withdrawal had driven her to some ends of her wits it was ultimately the pestilential berries rolling in her belly causing her to fall head on into insanity. There was time left to curb the progress of the infection but it was dwindling rapidly. Hair a giant matted mess and clothes tattered she grabbed fistfuls of the berries jamming them into her mouth smearing the juices all across her ashen face. Sweat was breaking out in a thin sheen across her forehead but it was unnoticeable to her as she had only the hunger on her mind.

He was sure he was watching a rabid animal and not the woman he had come to be so fond of. Anger irked him as he thought of how long he'd been parted from her due to work queries and just how long she'd been in this state roaming around vulnerable. He'd need to intervene and cut all losses in concealing himself from her if she was to be saved from this situation. It was a calculated risk but he knew his heart would never let him make amends with himself if he didn't do. It was with that assessment he made his swift descent from the tree branch he was sitting in and prowled towards her. She was none the wiser and he knocked her out with a hasty stunning jinx so he could run diagnostics with no out lashes. He'd seen a few of his men over the years make the same ignorant mistake with the berries and knew that she was very close to the hysterical stage. Initial fixes were easy and he took them within moments but he needed a very important elixir to heal her internal damage and flush the toxin from her body. She was in no state to be moved but he feared leaving her alone once more as it had obviously done her no good before. And yet of course he could hardly show up in a magic shop with one of the most wanted witches in the world. The gravity of the situation bore upon him heavily as he weighed more risks. There were a million little pieces scattered to connect and he had no clue where to start. Carrying her sleeping body into the tent for the second time he settled her into the cot wrapping her with the thick winter blankets.

Even in a state of a wild captive animal she was more holy looking than he could have ever imagined. The once gentle curls now matted and caked with dirt framed her pallid face and ruddy cheeks like a fallen angel cast down from heaven. He felt but the original sinner come to encounter the only one who could ever mirror the once sanctified but now hollow hole in his chest. Running his calloused and near bleeding fingers over her hair he felt that tug in his heart and wanted to cry out to the night. What kind of cruel world was this that they would exist in such parallel lives that only crossed for such tragedy? Leaving her pained him immeasurably but he promised her still form he would return before she awoke and he planned to keep that promise no matter what it would take. With a crack he was gone and the air left behind was clear but electrified as a faint hope for redemption lingered in the space.


	11. Sleeping With Ghosts

_Back again with a new chapter! I swear I'm trying to be good about posting properly once more ;) Special thanks to the two new followers the past couple days, you guys are awesome! And thanks as always to all of you loyal followers who are hanging in there with me :)_

 _"Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."_

 _–'The Highwayman' Alfred Noyes_

 ** _Chapter Eleven / Sleeping With Ghosts_**

It was well into the night and freshly stormy so the trip to the apothecary in knockturn alley was exceedingly painless. In some pure stroke of luck the remedy he needed was in stock and just in his price range as well. He fumbled with the coins in his pocket but gave away no clue to his true anxiousness that was bundling all the nerves in his stomach. Rationally he knew that she would be fine and still knocked out when he returned but still he couldn't help but fret about her. Caring was still unfamiliar territory for him but he knew he had to do it some sort of proper for her. She deserved that and more than he knew he could ever give her, but he knew he would give her his all until his calloused fingers bled. As his boots paddled quickly down the slick wet brick path he came to an abrupt halt in front of another store before darting inside for an unplanned gift.

Only a few short moments later he was back on course with a small box before making his concealed apparition back to her campsite. All was quiet and he went forth doing a thorough canvassing of the area. Reaffirming her charms on the site he finally let some ease snake back into his body. Entering the tent as quiet as possible he breathed a sigh of relief to find her still asleep and bundled well into her blankets confirming she'd never woken up during his absence. She would have to be awake to take the potion but from the heavy bags under her eyes he decided to let her rest some more before waking her. The shadowy yellow almost florid tinted pools sent a pang of guilt through him even though it wasn't directly his fault. Even if he had known of her wilting state he wouldn't have been able to leave the mission he'd been on the past several days without serious repercussions.

The ministry's urgency to corral more and more half-borns and muggle-borns was growing needier and needier every day as the dark lord's fear of being over powered grew as well. The potter boy and his friends had been rising silently in the background and if the papers rumors were to believed a full scale rebellion for the final blow was just on the horizon. Every time he saw the headlines he wondered if they missed her and if they'd been looking for her. What if they had just given up to pursue the 'bigger' cause? His heart made a strange aching sensation when he thought of no one looking for her alone out here. Though she truly wasn't alone anymore, not when he sat here on the floor beside her resting form, but still he wasn't someone she would consider a loved one. Even though he'd always been excluded from familial and close relations with others he knew there was a different tight knit to the emotions one feels with those people.

He passively wondered if his mother would ever miss him were she still alive. Would she sit at her dining table late at night and fret over him and his safety? Would she call upon him for Sunday night dinners and pester him to find a proper woman to settle down with? He was but a small babe when she passed and truly trying to remember her in any great detail was a taxing task but he liked to think she would have been very loving of him had she been given the chance. He missed her often but he wouldn't allow himself to ponder on it too long for fear of breaking his cold and detached exterior. His fathers face lurked in the shadows of those thoughts and he knew that would only shatter him even more to remember. The night was such a blur but there was a profound abundance of dark red and shouting, lots of bloody shouting, and finally crying before silence. He hadn't even reached schooling age yet. He hadn't even received his first Hogwarts letter. The hair on his head was still soft and combed to perfection by his mother every night. Death didn't seem a tangible concept to him back then at all. It was like she was just gone on holiday and never returned for him. For some reason she'd long abandoned her luggage and decided somewhere new was better. He knew now that she hadn't left him on purpose but it still stung to know he'd never feel the touch of her hands stroking his cheek when he cried or hold him in her strong arms after a bad day.

Now death just felt like a gripping but eventual reminder of the sad factuality of life. It was unavoidable and thus it started to lose its meaning. He knew the snatches he made would possible end in death for those left in the ministry's hands long enough but it was almost like it didn't matter anymore. They were but causalities to life's cruel hand and who was he but the middle man to God's perverted plan? It seemed rational for years now in his distorted views but sitting beside this lovely woman it started to all fall apart. She was one that would herself be condemned to death if life so permitted it in this new world order. How could he ever let that happen if he could stand between it? How many others had he wordlessly condemned for a quick galleon that had someone who felt the same about them? He felt dirty and soiled to his core just thinking of the others who he destroyed in his unsympathetic lifestyle. How could he ever atone for that if atonement is even possible?

The distress wracked his brain and caused a headache more splitting than a mermaids cry. Turning back to look at her he knew he had to at least try to right all his wrongs. Even if it meant turning his back on the hand that feeds. Even if it would one day cost him his own life. What would a life be worth without atonement for these sins anyways? Breaking to the every bend of life would be only to surrender to the things in life that he truly despised. He had to stand up for once and nothing would change his mind. Pulling himself up from the floor and resting on the very side of the cot he pulled the bottle that was cradled in his pocket out and breathed a full and heavy breath before waking her from the forcefully induced slumber. To say she looked confused would be an understatement; it was more of a deer in headlights panic that etched her features.

"It's you. Is it really you though?"

Her hands feebly reached out to latch onto him seeking to assuage her worries she was hallucinating yet again. Her hands met the solid and warm flesh of his face and the unwashed tangle of his hair though and she cried out in happiness. With a struggle she launched herself forward and wrapped herself around him in the desperate hug. He was taken aback having expected much more of an icy response from her but he wasn't going to complain. Even covered in grime and a bit sweat soaked she smelled divine and his hands slowly allowed themselves to wrap around her in return as he smiled into her messy hair. His heart was singing and pounding to the rhythm of an unknown song so strong he almost forgot to let go of her.

"Questions later beautiful, first I need ya to drink this. You've been eating poisonous berries and though I've healed most of your injuries you're gonna need this to heal your insides."

He tried to give her a stern look but the smile was still trying to tug at his lips, but thankfully she still took him utterly serious. Downing the potion she seemed to nearly instantly revive back to her healthy self. Though her hair and clothes still remained a disheveled mess the tone of her skin glowed back to a healthy peach and the bags weighing under her eyes dissolved away under his intent watch. The aching returned in his chest but this time he knew it was a good kind of ache and not the bad.

"I'd almost thought I'd dreamed you in my sleep. Yet here you are right in front of me saving me and offering me the solace of company that I've been needing. You're not some kind of angel are you?"

Her voice was playful but the seriousness was still resting behind them as she stared softly up at him. She was going to be the death of him whether he wanted it or not.

"No I'm afraid I'm probably more of a devil than an angel. I didn't save ya though rest assured in that. I've seen men ten times your size eat less berries than you and succumb to a point so far they never recovered. Any saving that was done came from your own doll; I just helped you get back up on the path."

The air that settled between them wasn't tense as he expected but instead dense with an unknown appreciation. How this bird ever came into his life he'd surely never know but he wanted her to lead him her nest and show him how to fly with her. Even at her weakest moment she was strong and vibrant radiating an inner fire that only a warrior could have.

"Thank you."

It was such a small statement but it meant worlds of worth as she pulled him in once more for a hug and settled into his embrace curling against him. She yawned into his sleeve and he made a movement to get up and allow her to fall back asleep but just as he got up he felt a tiny tug and looked down at her puzzled.

"I'm sure you could use some rest as well. Lay with me?"

So innocent and gentle his heart nearly exploded in his chest he simply nodded and shrugged his leather jacket off before sliding into the cot beside her. Settling under the magically heated blankets he felt her push up against his chest and he swore she fit just like she'd always been a part of him. It was like spending his entire life with a phantom limb only to wake up one morning to find a real limb in the place of the ghostly emptiness. He knew she could probably hear his chest thudding louder than an express train but if she did she made no notion to mention it and instead settled into a fast sleep.

This had to be it. The emotion that lead the rebellion. The love that echoed in all their heads and hearts as they gave their lives on the front lines. This had to be the throbbing pain that young lovers felt when they feared losing their youth and loves to war. This had to be the crippling passion that gave artists the need to put brushes and pens to canvas and paper. It was terrifying and all consuming but it was so pure and sacred that it was no wonder all the angels ever sang was about it.

She was gone into the mystic world of dreams and far from hearing whispered hush tones but yet he still said it and it was possibly the most honest thing he'd ever said yet.

 _"I think I love ya little bird."_


	12. Black Eyed

_This chapter will be less about our lovers and more of a filler to give a broad look on what is happening in the world with the war outside of the woods because soon that reality will be crashing into their situation. I will also be uploading a second chapter tonight since this one is a tad short so there will be more as a little holiday gift :) Also a special thanks to RoseHana for the absolutely lovely review it made my day! And onwards we go- hope you all enjoy!_

 _ **Chapter Twelve / Black Eyed**_

The damage was taking its toll on the young foot soldiers and it was nowhere near getting better. As the glaringly bright sun slugged just past the tree line they jogged onwards towards the crooked tall house as quick as they could. Wards crackled with a light heat but allowed them through recognizing their bodies. All five of them tried to get through the door politely but it was obvious they all wanted in as soon as possible making it quite a shuffle. The lanky fiery haired twins made it in first though their elbows were near in each others rib cages followed in suit by their sister and youngest brother. Only one remained polite enough to wait his turn as he walked in behind them with a fair enough space. His hair had grown out quite considerably in the time that had passed and his face was stoic and smudged with caked on mud. His glasses had taken a fair amount of beating as well splintering across the left lens but it was never something that would stop him.

"Oi Harry your glasses are wrecked."

George glanced sidelong at him with a smirk from the kitchen counter that he was precariously perched upon already. Everyone settled into chairs around the room with exhaustive sighs as Molly rushed in to prepare their dinner plates. Worry had only settled more lines around her eyes this past year but the relief on her face at seeing them all alive and in one piece was more than enough consolation to make up for that. The death eaters were coming out of the wood work more and more each day and the violence seeped into the streets at an alarming rate recently. Muggles were no longer safe either as their homes were needless burned to the ground, more often than not, with entire families still inside.

Rumors had been growing lately as well that they were gathering half bloods and muggle borns for their own 'entertainment' back at their stomping grounds. Entertainment was a far too light term though for the cesspool of horror they were breeding. Aurors had just last week found several women's naked bodies dumped outside of a tavern swollen and mutilated enough that their faces alone were not enough for a proper identification. It was a grotesque way of gloating and warning to all others of their blood status what was planned for them should the dark lord truly rise to all consuming power. When Remus had spoke the findings in hushed tones to the group of Order spies that day their stomachs all turned with fear that one of them could be Hermione. She'd been missing for over two months now since their ill fated ministry escape where she'd been splinched away from them. Ron would numbly run his hand over his still slightly scarred arm every time he'd think about her in the passing time. Harry would often dream of those women all black eyed and bloated on the cobble stone but with her marbled empty face.

Inside sources the Order had did not catalog her amongst the captives that they had seen but it was looking grim in the Order's eyes that she had not returned to any of the safe houses. The thought of her alone in the care of those disgusting men who could be touching her in vile ways was more than anyone could handle and so they pushed the topic away during verbal conversations. They tried valiantly not to lose hope but as the days passed with no word one by one they started to find defeat a more viable option until she was spotted.

"Here let me fix them for you."

Ginny settled herself on the armrest of the lounge chair Harry was in and with the short snap of her wand had repaired his glasses to brand new quality. Her proud little smile nearly crippled his heart as he realized how it mirrored the first time him and Hermione met. He'd never had proper siblings growing up and Ron and Hermione were the siblings he'd always wanted but never had until that day on the Hogwarts train. He worried for her and would mentally shout out at night to anyone in the universe he thought might be listening. He could never imagine having to bury her. Never could he imagine having to stand above a patch of newly settled dirt and look down at a spot she would never move from. She deserved so much more than to be ripped from the bright future everyone always imagined she would have. It was true that she'd been quiet distant from them as of late and it pained him to think that he might have wasted the last moments he would ever have with her. He never meant to be neglectful of their friendship but life just sort of got in the way and he didn't pay enough mind to realize something may have been wrong with her. Now more than ever he thought he would give anything to go back the past few months and stop to talk to her and find out what was going on.

Ron was staring at Ginny and Harry recognizing the moment between them and thinking as well of that day on the train.

"I miss her too mate."

His voice cracked a slight bit and the room stood still in prepared mourning but they were not ready just yet for total surrender.


	13. I Prefer It In Your Bed

_As promised! This is actually a really sweet chapter for all you guys who like a bit of tender fluff. Also there's some pretty dark times ahead for these two and I wanted to give this affectionate sentiment to their relationship so they have that to cling to, you know? Hope you all enjoy!_

 _ **Chapter Thirteen / I Prefer It In Your Bed**_

It was a comfortable void that wrapped them up ever so sympathetically like children.

No nightmares.

No tremors.

No jitters.

Nothing.

Just a comfortable bliss as the sweat of their bodies soaked their clothes from the close proximity under thick sheets. Neither made any movement to move though and in fact would ever so try and shift closer in their sleep. Limbs entangled they were an unwashed mess but it the moment was just right. His long frizzed hair would jumble in her face when he would wiggle about unconsciously and tickle her nose but she'd just push closer under his face to his chest. For once instead of falling asleep with her hands clutching the ring on the necklace around her neck her hands were softly grappling at the buttons of his worn out undershirt.

It was the first time she'd ever shared a bed with a proper man. The closest she'd ever come was once having to share a bunk with her cousin Robbie at their aunt's house during a holiday when they were seven. Definitely not even remotely in the same ball park really. She woke in the middle of the night to his body pressed firmly against hers and his calm breathing prickling the top of her head and could only smile at the absurdity. What would her house mates think if they knew the ice queen of Gryffindor was snuggled up proper with an older dangerous looking man? It would be an absolute total mess in the rumor mills of Hogwarts.

She was so close she even feel the heat radiate off his body and she wasn't sure if she was flushing from the acute awareness she had to how overheated she was or because she was simply so embarrassed. The realization that her hair had little clumps of dried out mud and she hadn't washed in days was now intensely weighing on her mind. She must have looked an awful fright and yet he still held her like this and so close to him. It was mind boggling to say the least for her. Despite her mental protests though she didn't want to move from this spot with him fearing the moment would come to an end. It was everything she'd ever wanted to feel from someone else in a strange way. Even though they still felt like acquainted strangers she was in a compromised position with him she'd never been with anyone else and was very okay with it. She'd always felt that it should be that way though when you meet the right kind of person. It was a very childish mentality she told herself over the years but yet here it was happening for real.

A princess fairytale was way off from what this was and she liked it that way of course. She was generally fully capable of handling herself and her affairs without someone riding in on a white horse and saving her. Glancing up at his rough usually stern face and how contrastingly placid it looked while he slept she rationed that he would probably pick a black horse anyways. Of course she was getting far ahead of herself and allowing the moment to be overanalyzed to death already. So she relaxed back against him in spite of the sweat sticking her clothes against her skin and listened to his heart beat like a steady drum against her ear. It was so exhilarating for her to finally feel something instead of the blank sheet that'd been covering her so long. It was like the ghostly sheen that'd been gradually layering over her was beginning to fade as her body took on more opacity. She could feel heat and the electricity of someone's skin under her finger tips. If she wanted she could reached out and smash a plate and people would actually see her above the mess. She could even scream out at the top of her lungs and for once someone would actually hear. Perhaps this was what being alive was supposed to really feel like.

All the shadowy scary creatures lurking around her were backing away for just this small moment allowing her this respite. The growls and low whines of the monsters lulled to just above a hushed whisper. All the noise and all the anger and all the pain dulled to the lowest point just above threshold and it was calm for just now. She tried not to cry but it just sort of happened but she was just too content to contain it. It wasn't raw and wounding like always but instead just temperate and fulfilling. Calming herself down her top arm wrapped around his mid section as she curled back into his body tracing circles on the small of his back.

He wasn't awake at first and thought for certain he was somewhere far off in another world or perhaps even another life. When he heard her tiny sharp inhale and the undeniable sound of indulgent crying he knew it was real though. Instinct told him to grab her and pull him flush against him and coo softly like he'd seen done in the pictures but he was too afraid she might push back away from him. So he just laid there pretending to still be asleep. Then he felt it. Her arm wrapping around him and her tears being patted up by the cloth of his shirt and he knew she was going to be okay. Her nimble little fingers lightly traced shapes on his back giving him the chills and he shifted his head back down against hers and kissed her temple ever so slightly.

"Thank you."

He almost missed it her voice was so muffled by his shirt but in the dead silence of the tent there was no way not to hear her voice breaching his entire waking existence. What she was thanking him for he was not even sure but he was happy to help.

"Anything for ya little bird. Go back to sleep and we'll sort it all out in the mornin' yeah?"

She nodded against his chest and they resumed their gratified silence with her making shapes and him tickling the top of her head with his breath. There were more questions than he ever imagined in his life but the answers just didn't seem that relevant at this moment. Not out here alone with no one judging them or hunting them. It all was a bloody mess for certain out there in the real world but in this secret corner they'd hidden in nothing could touch them.

Though one thing was for certain and that was that he preferred it much more in her bed than any other he would ever find.


	14. Breaking To Your Bend

_I am back again with another chapter for you all! I'm trying to keep back up my steady pace of posting even with the holidays happening for the rest of you also trying to avoid the holiday funks. Things start to take their turn in this chapter so buckle up guys the wild ride is about to begin. Thank you for reading!_

 ** _Chapter Fourteen / Breaking To Your Bend_**

When a storm is coming you feel the effects even before they often begin. There will be a gentle rumble of the thunder in the distance that trembles in the ground. The trees bow and bend to the force of the winds as they come in. Instead of a vibrant blue sky you find only monochromatic grey clouds hanging above you. They're your tell that something is coming and to seek shelter and wait it out. And so you wait and you wait until the outside world has come to a calm silence. No more shaking from the trees, no more tremors in the ground, and no more pounding rain on all the walls. More often than not you are safe and in the clear. You can resume your life as was scheduled and go back about your day. That's the thing about life though; it doesn't always happen as you expect. We are always the trees bowing and bending to its will hoping that this isn't the day that it snaps us in half.

And then some days you walk outside to find you're in the eye of the storm.

You reach out and scream and plead to feel your feet back on solid ground but the tornado has already picked you up in its deadly grasp. Nature has no regards for your cries and it has no voice to tell you its uncertain plans. You are at the mercy completely of a creature with no conscious thought. Yet still this creature is nowhere near as devastating as those with conscious thought. Humans have the capacity for full ranges of emotions and contemplation of morals and how to apply them. Those obsessed with blood status can't see that human instinct runs in the veins of us all whether we are muggle or magical. The instinctual need to protect one's self is a common core in us all. Fight or flight and the determination of who we can trust to turn our backs to thrives in the mind of us all. It's also the same pain that we feel when the ones behind our backs are the ones holding the weapon be it a gun or a wand. The universe may break the legs holding you up but only a human will love you before they break them.

Hermione woke alone in her cot shivering and wrapping herself in the blankets that still smelled like him. She was sure she'd finally lost it for good and hallucinated their entire night together and even was imagining this smell right now but then she heard someone drop something outside of the tent and jumped with a startle to her feet. It was clumsy and half hearted but clutching the blankets tight around her she went to grab her wand from the table only to nearly trip on a giant black lump on the floor. Kicking it with her foot she recognized the leather jacket immediately and walked straight to the tent opening. Scabior was picking up a mess of tree branches and snapping them into halves before noticing her standing there look even wilder than last night staring straight at him.

"Ya know if you're gonna keep gaping at me like that I may just have 'ta charge ya. Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

He squinted at her with a faux scowl and she turned several shades of pink under his glare before hiding her face under the blanket wrapped in her hands.

"God I must look a proper mess right now I don't even want to be near a reflective surface."

He made his way over to her and placed his warm hands over her own before dragging the blanket back off of her face.

"A bit ratty and you could easily pass for a street beggar in knockturn alley I reckon. What would the papers say my doll? Oh what an awful affair you would make."

His charm had yet to ever grow tiring to her and she found herself smiling more than she had in weeks as he teased her and tried to aimlessly brush her hair out with his fingers. He'd catch them in a knot or two and she'd wince slightly but didn't stop him noticing the look on his face as he worked his way through all the curls and kinks. How many nights had he laid awake thinking of this exact same moment? Getting to be so close to her he could touch her hair and feel the strange pull between them practically snapping with electricity.

"Go ahead and clean up doll I'm getting a fire sorted out for us to eat somethin."

It pained him to let go of her but he knew time was of the essence and he had to make sure she would be prepared when he broke the news to her. She hesitated but then nodded and headed back into the tent before bewitching it shut. He wasn't ready for what was about to come. Hell he didn't even know what he was going to do. He didn't want to leave her alone after what had happened but if they were heading straight towards the two of them then he had to try and intervene. Being torn from her side for a week or so would hurt but it was better than seeing her captured.

The thought of Dolohov finding her was more than enough to make the insides of his stomach want to turn. That beast was fowl and had a penchant for doing unimaginable to those that he caught. He'd heard the tales the week before of the young women that the Dark Lord had him leave on a street somewhere. Hunting was never a taboo for Scabior but the torture that was excessive and inhumane. He may have turned people over for money which was low enough, but he never laid a perverse finger on them and he sure as hell never killed one.

Not after what happened to his mother. He could never hurt a woman like that. He made that promise to himself long before he became a snatcher and he didn't ever plan on breaking it. Once the fire was made and coming to a roar he laid back and watched the flames lick at the dry blistering morning air. He wanted to think of a strategy but all that he could think about was the feeling of her pressed against his chest as his hand reached out at the dull aching spot just beneath his breast. His finger traced over the spots he remembered feeling her face press against in her sleep. It was so unfamiliar but he never wanted to lose this new feeling. It wasn't threatening or terrifying like most things he was used to. Not cold and detached or done out of an ulterior motive. It was pure and it felt like standing beneath the full glow of a summer sun. He didn't think he deserved it in the least.

"So what's on the menu?"

Her voice was soft and playful as she slid down beside him offering him the other side of her blanket. He took it gratefully even though he was near sweating beside the heavy fire. Anything to feel close to her. A wash up had done her well and she looked nearly well despite a flush still overcoming her face but that was most likely from not eating properly. Digging around the bag at his side he pulled out some sandwiches and small treats he'd picked up for her during his trip the night before. He also produced a small box wrapped in golden paper that he placed in her hands.

"What's this?"

"Just open it."

He gave no hints and just looked at her with a knowing smile as she torn the paper off and unwrapped the little box. Inside was an intricate thick gold wrist band that shimmered ever so noticeably in the radiance of the fire.

"It's been charmed! What does it do?"

Her smile nearly knocked him over as she beamed at him with an intense curiosity. He'd never seen his side of her and it was fascinating to witness. This was the Hermione that people always talked about and he'd heard of. A girl who was insatiable for knowledge and who was smarter than hell.

"It's a bond enchantment. See my ring you got has a blood connection to my family. It belonged to my father and his before him so on and such forth and that's why I can find ya with it. It calls out to me because it's connected to me. This band however is connected to me in a different way. If you're hurt or in pain I can feel it and if you're in danger I will know and I will find you. Once it's on whisper a secret word or phase to it and it will seal itself around your wrist so no one can remove it but you."

He was intense and very serious as he slid the band on her wrist, lingering momentarily to hold her hand between his own. This meant something and she was well aware of it despite wanting to believe this secret life between them would never end.

"You're leaving aren't you?"

It wasn't accusatory as he had thought it would be. Instead it was almost defeated and sad when the words left her lips. That hurt him much worse.

"I don't want to but I have to. There are people looking for you and not the kind you want to find you. They're very close and I have to lead them away. I'm not doin this to abandon ya sweet little bird I will be back as soon as I know it's safe. You're going to have to move your camp though in the opposite direction. Go as far as you can stand to walk."

His voice was rough and it was obvious he was fighting back a flurry of emotions but he wasn't going to let himself break, he had to be strong for this. For her.

"I trust you."

Toying with the new gift on her wrist she pulled it close to her mouth and whispered something to it only she could hear before it shrunk around her wrist like a second skin. She laid her head on his shoulder and they sat in a comfortable but terrifying silence as both their minds reeled with the unknown possibilities that lay ahead of them. Both of them were only hoping that in the end they would end up back in each others arms. God knows they would try. Only an hour passed but it felt like days as they sat like that eating their treats and staring at the now dying fire. With resignation they cleaned up their mess and he helped her pack her belongings and her tent back into her bag. Standing face to face in the now open clearing she unraveled the faded worn scarf from her neck placing it around his.

"So you have something of mine at least."

Knotting the scarf firmly in place he tucked it under his inner jacket for safe keeping. He wanted to say something profound to her in this moment. Something to assure her that it would be alright but nothing came to him that seemed powerful enough. Instead he used his actions to replace any words that would never mean enough. Placing both of his hands lightly on the sides of her face he looked at her searchingly in the eyes before pulling her into a passionate kiss that left them both grasping at each other for a final solidarity. It was needy but not as desperate as their first kiss. This was like a rain shower after days of a drought. It was a blessing given to delay disaster and heal wounds.

With that they parted in opposite directions and neither looked back at the other.


	15. The Angels Are All Dead

_Authors note: Hey guys here's the next one, sorry for the delay holiday season has had me bogged down. Also regarding my last review, I really have no stock in if this story "succeeds" or not I really started writing this on a whim and to just have more personal vision for seeing these two interact. If you don't like my writing style that's okay! Just turn back around and give it no more mind. I only post it on here so I don't lose it and if anyone else might enjoy it as well. It's nothing serious, just good fun and practice in writing more. I know I have a very strange writing style but it's how I roll. Happy holidays to you all and I hope you have a lovely new year :)_

 _Warning: Things get a bit sexual in this chapter and not in a good way, if non-con contact is a trigger for you then do not proceed. The revenge is very sweet though and it will be had. That brings me to my next warning, bit of graphic violence as well!_

 ** _Chapter Fifteen / The Angels Are All Dead_**

It was all terrifying panic clenching her throat and the drive to avoid tripping over every fallen tree branch scattered on the forest floor keeping her safe now. Every thing that had happened was finally cultivating in this exact moment that she'd been metaphorically and literally running from for weeks now. Her trail had been found and she was on the run from the pack of men yelling and throwing jinxes at her from every angle behind her. Rain began to pitter patter down around her until it was pounding down harder than her heartbeat only making her escape that much more dangerous. Hearing the cracking and splintering of trees behind her taking the brunt of the assault she bobbed and weaved trying to throw them off her path desperately hoping to find somewhere hidden to duck into. In reality it had only been several minutes at best but the minutes were passing like hours and she felt her resolve dissolving with every near slip and every root that almost snagged her shoes. Their yelling never faltered but her ears were echoing back the sound of her rushing blood keeping her from distinguishing any words they said.

For a fraction of a moment she heard their voices near to almost completely faded away. For a fraction of a moment she thought she was finally going to be free. For a fraction of a moment she tasted the sweet nectar of victory. For a fraction of a moment she thought of home and thought of her friends all waiting for her. For a fraction of a moment she thought of his breath tickling her hair in his sleep. A fraction of a moment was all it took for it all to be taken away from her.

Large fur covered arms snaked around her from the side and she screamed louder than she had ever in her entire life. The man was near twice her size in height and width but she still thrashed in his arms and tried with a valiant effort to slide out of his clutches but he was just as dedicated to keeping her in his grip. Throwing her head back in protest she finally recognized the man as Fenrir Greyback and the blood that was circulating her entire body drained distinctly from her face. She'd heard enough tales from Order members to know just how grave her situation had become at this moment.

"Giving up so soon? What a shame I prefer when my play things give a little fight."

His face nuzzled her ear as he all but lustfully purred the words to her and she felt her stomach twist into knots. She knew he had the biggest reputation amongst the death eaters of having his way with anyone he caught before turning them over and was only second in vile invasive methods to Dolohov. She heard the footsteps of the other men all approaching now and feared looking into the eyes of who ever else could be soon to make her existence hell instead choosing to keep her head down cast at the ground and going limp in Fenrir's arms.

"Damn did ya kill her already beast? We can't keep turning over corpses ya know, they like doing that bit themselves."

The voice was unrecognizable but the words were enough to get her legs trembling just the slightest at the implication. Would she even make it to the Ministry alive? A small scared part of her almost hoped she wouldn't. Though she knew death by werewolf wouldn't be the most painless way to go, it would have to beat the slow torture and imprisonment that the Ministry would have in store for her. She'd not seen the methods when in the Ministry with the boys but she'd heard enough from the Order meetings to know that it was a fate worse than death to be kept in the hands of the death eaters.

Feeling something thick and wet pooling down her leg she focused hard enough to notice that a stick must have ripped her jeans when on the run and cut a nasty gash into her upper thigh. The rain was still coming down heavy but the werewolf finally also caught the scent of her blood and pressed her body harder against his. She felt the physical stirring of his body reacting to the scent and struggled not to vomit as the men continued arguing with themselves but all she could focus on was the rising in her gullet and the feeling of the werewolf rubbing her slowly against his body. Before long she realized they were in motion but still feared looking up and seeing the rest of the men or just where they were taking her off to. Knowledge in this situation offered nothing but more panic for her at this moment. She watched the blood drip off her shoe onto all the leaves they passed over on their journey and had become entranced in the bizarre sight.

It was after all, that very blood that got her into this situation. Something about it was just so wrong to them but she knew if she sliced open their bodies they would bleed the same as her. It would smell the same and it would look the same. It might even taste the same. So why was hers just so awful to them? They were all the same muscles and bones framed together and pumping this thick crimson goo through the very similar hearts and veins. Did they not realize that she would do anything in her power to change herself to fit like them? When she was a young girl magic was this fantastical and beautiful thing that she thought was going to do nothing but change her life for the good but as she grew older and faced the hard discrimination every day she started to resent it. Every tome and every magical scroll said nothing but that magic was a precious gift given to the most worthy. She never felt very worthy though, not of this prized talent and certainly not when so many pure bloods constantly told her that she wasn't worthy of it. Every fiber of her being wanted to change that though and wanted to prove that she could be just as good if not better than them. All her life she'd resided on being passive though. Passive methods and passive behaviors and it'd gotten her nowhere useful.

The anger rising in her throat she lifted her head up and saw them coming near a camp with a dozen or so scroungy looking men. A handful of them she could recognize from posters at Oder meetings but no one stood out to her as well as Fenrir did. The others kept walking but Fenrir stopped just short of the tents and yelled out to them.

"You guys go ahead...I think I'm going to take this one for a test drive before we chain her up for the night."

His tone was dripping with ill intent and his body was even more proof of that as his straining excitement poked hard into her back. Her vision was only getting more unfocused as the emotions strangled her mind all clambering to be the most noticed. Anger always won out though. As they made their way to a quiet spot just far enough from the camp he slammed her back against a tree and magically bound her hands back around the trunk. Tearing down his trousers he pushed himself up against her as he burrowed his mouth into her neck and nipped just light enough not to make an actual bite. The fear of being turned as well into a werwolf was at the farthest of Hermione's mind as the anger inside her was throbbing harder than his personal growth that was rubbing against her inner leg.

Sour bile was crawling up her throat but her body was too tense and constricted to physically let it out at this point and her vision was going red as her conscious blacked out to the psychotic rage threatening to over flow. Every moment in her life where she felt unworthy. Every foul word spit in her direction. Every person who ever took advantage of her. It was all bottled up inside for so long and it was ready to blow. If magic truly came from emotion then this was the catalyst that could tear her body to shreds as it exploded to escape her. By all means though her eyes were locked square on the body that was grinding against her moaning and writhing as it prepared to desecrate her body. The magical build up vibrated off her skin and pushed forward so hard that Fenrir's neck made a sickening snap as he landed in a heap on the ground several feet in front of her. Her arms ripped forward with an unnatural strength snapping the rope holding her back and the two halves now dangled from her freed wrists but she paid no mind to them as her body mechanically trudged forward and loomed over his lifeless body assessing what she had done.

It wasn't enough. It just wasn't enough. He hadn't suffered enough. Hadn't been tortured enough for the sins he had committed against the bodies of countless others. Animal instinct had taken over her and without any hesitation she throw herself forward with a guttural scream and began tearing her nails into his flesh. The magic was still clinging like daggers from every inch of her skin and only helped to cause deeper slices into his body. She didn't know how long she kept going but she could feel all the blood and bits of his mangled flesh soaking her already wet jeans and sweater. Metallic scent was filling her nostrils as she dived up and down from his corpse with the movement of her frantic shoulders. Her voice never faltered as it called out to anyone who could hear it like the most dangerous warrior scream. Thinking of his so called superior blood mingling with her own blood on her leg caused the most heinous and deranged laugh to slither out of her throat as she kept clawing and clawing until she could feel the bones of his chest cavity scratch against her finger nails.

It was all blood and ribboned flesh and hysteria and screaming until a loud crack of a spell slammed into her and she immediately slumped over onto of his near indistinguishable body. Several of the men from the camp gathered around the two of them and a handful even shuffled away to throw up away from the others at the sight. Magic gave them the ability to dissonance cognitively from death but when faced with the brute force of human brutality they were voiceless.

"I think...we should take this one to the Manor instead."

One lone man croaked out in the deafening silence and the others all just nodded unsure of what other actions they could really take.


End file.
